Ever Wonder
by Diabolicael
Summary: What if Alice had been an interesting and halfway intelligent character? A reworking of Syfy's Alice -as Dark Storm was to TinMan- from start to finish. Hatter is fleshed out a bit as well. If you're not sure it's for you, read Ch5. You'll see.
1. Just Alice

**Howdy! So, I watched Alice and told myself over and over that I would not write an Alice fic like I did with TinMan. Well, obviously I was wrong. Alice, herself, was so crap I couldn't stand it. The queen was a dissappointment as well. I have to say, though, I love Hatter and adore Charlie. So, for those of you who liked Dark Storm (sorry, btw. the sequel has issues), here's SciFi miniseries rewrite part 2: electric boogaloo. Also known as...**

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**Ever Wonder**

Today was a momentous day. Not because the day itself was anything special, but because at the end of today was tonight and tonight was a momentous night. The first time you bring a man home to meet Mother is a huge milestone in a young lady's life. True, at twenty-four, Alice Hamilton was running a little behind on this particular achievement. One certainly could not count the time the police had dropped her off on her doorstep with Casey Malcolm still sitting in the back of the squad car as bringing a gentleman home. Nor could the occasion when Jose Caro had dropped her off after a rehearsal for the spring play and waved a cheery greeting to her mother, who was just coming down the front stairs to put out the trash. Just because the two had shared a clandestine kiss moments before hand - during which Jose had brazenly copped a feel - did not make them an item. He was her drama teacher, after all. The point being, tardiness in an achievement does not always lessen the specialness of it and tonight, Alice was certain, would be perfectly exciting and wonderful.

"Yame!" she called with a stern confidence that belied her giddy excitement. The group of men and women before her, who had been practicing shoulder throws for the last ten minutes or so, ceased their actions and turned to her with a respect that still made a slight flush of heat creep up the back of her neck. Off to the side, from behind the plate glass window that took up most of the wall between his office and the main room of the dojo, she could feel Master Yakata's eyes on her as she thanked and dismissed the students. She knew the man, owner of the dojo, was happy with her progress and very much cherished his approval; sought it out just as much as her own mother's, if one were to be entirely honest.

The class moved off to the west wall, almost as a unit, gathering up discarded towels and sundries before heading back into the locker rooms to change into their street clothes. Alice turned the opposite direction, her destination being the employee locker room, which was off limits to students. This did not stop one Jack Chase from, well, chasing after her. She smiled inside her mouth.

"I believe we have a private lesson, Miss Hamilton," came Jack's smooth voice, with that oh so very proper, lilting British accent. When he wanted to turn on the charm, the man could melt butter with a word.

She shook her head, turning to him with an almost pitying little smile. "How many classes have you taken, Mr. Chase?"

"Ten in six weeks." Not and inconsiderable amount. He quickly added, "But, I can always do with more."

Her smile became a smirk. Yes, he really could do with more if this was the best he had to offer, it said silently. Alice could see the spark in his eye as he got the message loud at clear. "I'm only a junior instructor, you'll have to see one of the other trainers."

Chase nodded, chestnut bangs falling forward to give him a deceptive appearance of boyish charm for a moment before he tossed his head and sent them back to a more respectable place off his face. "Who would you suggest?"

The woman, who was still very much a girl in many ways, shrugged. "Tim Roberts is a very good instructor."

Jack's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head aside slightly, obviously not thinking this was the wisest choice. "I've heard he has a mean streak. What about Jenny Moyers?" There was that spark again. His expression could turn on a dime and was often so hard to read she might have thought he wasn't feeling anything at all, but just now Alice could clearly see the teasing light in his gaze.

"No, she's no good for you," she responded, maybe just a hair too quickly. "She's too.."

"Pretty?" He actually smirked at her now, so haughty and sure of himself. Long, nimble fingers reached up to tuck an errant strand of her so-dark-it-was-almost-black-but-not-quite-which-had-been-such-a-bane-to-her-in-high-school-but-she-had-made-peace-with-it brown hair behind her ear. In a flash, Alice had caught the much larger man's wrist, turned and stepped into his very firm and quite strong body, and tossed him over her shoulder and to the mat on which they stood. She place a triumphant bare foot on his chest lightly, grinning down at him widely.

Jack coughed dramatically and looked up at his conqueror beseechingly. "Alice, that really hurt."

Not buying that for a send, she dropped to her knees beside him and played along, cupping his face in gentle hands. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. Where?"

He motioned up and down his prone frame, responding pathetically, "Everywhere."

Alice glanced up to find the dojo now empty and, as the two of them were not in the direct line of sight out of Master Yakata's office window, she bent close to whisper against his lips. "Want me to kiss it better?"

He let out a laugh, which was quickly silence as her mouth descended upon his. Strong arms came up around her shoulders, trying to pull her closer and Alice felt a flutter in her stomach, feeling the want in the way his hands flattened against her shoulder blade and spine. It wasn't a sweet, warm flutter like they describe in story books, nor a sizzling burn of desire like those spoken of in romance novels. It was the same uncomfortable, dully panicked feeling she always got and had long ago learned to live with; even associate with pleasure. Her butterflies must be defective.

She kept the kiss short, as they were on the floor of her place of work and it was unacceptable for Master Yakata to hear about - or unthinkably see - her like this. But, she knew it would please Jack and so had taken the risk. As she pulled back, she could still taste him and knew the smoothness in his voice was a direct result of the way he tasted. Smooth like caramel, cool like mint, and heady like a sip of strong liquor.

"The pain is, eh, lower down," Jack said, eyes flicking down his chest, lips forming a rakish grin. Alice rolled her eyes and leaned back, getting her feet under her to stand. "No, don't get up. I need medical attention!" The man protested. She only snorted out a laugh and took his hand, pulling him to his feet. He caught her shoulders and tried to move in for another kiss, but she waylaid him with a stern finger to his lips. Jack knew her well enough by now that there were times he should just back down. It never ceased to make her heart give a little thump that he actually did so, respecting her personal boundaries. He could read her so well.

"So, tonight?" he moved on, releasing her. Alice smiled widely, turning away quickly so he wouldn't see the childish glee in her expression. She didn't want to scare him off by letting him see just how much this meant to her. Her bottle of water resting on the windowsill made a perfect distraction.

"Seven," she forced her voice to a normal tone, not high and squeaky as it was wont to get when she was particularly excited. "My mother is so looking forward to it." Right, it was her mother who couldn't get to sleep the night before.

Jack's pale reflection in the glass smiled at her. "Good for your mum. I am, too." She lifted the bottle to his lips, not because she was thirsty, but because it kept her from biting one of them. He was so wonderful. "What have you told her about me?"

It was one of those Jack questions that had some kind of subtle undercurrent. Alice could always tell them apart from the others, but never knew what the deeper meaning was. She was always afraid to answer, afraid whatever she said would be wrong, would ruin her image in the man's eyes. A converstaion that felt like a lovely stroll in the park would suddenly become a field of land mines. During the second month of their relationship, she had started to avoid answering those heavy questions whenever she could.

"Just that your leg kicks need work," she told him with a forced air of lightness. He chuckled and her stomach unclenched.

"It's true." He smiled at her and stepped forward, silently asking permission this time. She lowered the water bottle and tilted her chin upwards, granting his request. How could she not, when he was so wonderful? Those cool, skilled lips met hers again for just a moment and then Jack was smiling down at her with what must be tender affection, if not something more. "Until tonight." He said by way of parting, brushing his fingers across the back of her empty hand. Phew, the man was smooth as satin sheets.

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At twenty-four, Alice could - perhaps should - have been out on her own. She was not. She still lived at home with her mother, in the same house she had lived in her entire life. It wasn't a huge house, no bigger than the ones that flanked it and the ones aside those and on and on down the street where she lived. Yet, somehow, it always seemed just a bit too large, just a tad empty, like if you were to speak that smidgeon too loudly, it might echo. Well, not always, just for the last thirteen years, three months, and nineteen days. Give or take.

The men on Alice's computer screen, smiling and looking at her like puppies in a pet shop - or so it seemed to the girl - were each summarily glanced at and rejected. None of them had the unruly curls she'd always wished she had inherited, none of them had the wry smile or twinkling hazel eyes she told herself she no longer missed. Robert Hamilton, father and husband, had vanished into the wind those thirteen odd years ago without so much as a Post-It or kiss goodbye.

At ten years old, Alice was completely a child, not having begun the treacherous march towards womanhood just yet. The loss of her father without warning or explanation at confused and frightened her, left her feeling lost and adrift on the vast sea of existence. After the initial shock and panic had worn off, mother was learning to cope with knowledge that her husband was very certainly dead and gone, a victim of the random violence her world was rife with, but Alice refused such a concept outright. People didn't just die and vanish. She knew that. That sort of thing didn't even happen on TV, they always found a grave, a body, something; a finger, even, on that one episode of Law & Order she wasn't supposed to have watched, but did anyway. There must be another explanation.

At first, she had been convinced her father had witnessed a murder or drug deal, something hugely dangerous and important and been whisked away into witness protection. Then came the theory that perhaps Robert Hamilton had never existed, her father was really a fabulously adventurous spy and had to rush out on a perilous mission. Of course, he would use his considerable skills to complete the mission and, defying his superiors, come home to the wife and daughter he so loved. Most of her certainties on her father's whereabouts ran along these lines until she turned twelve and one of the girls in her class, Madison Lewis, had cried in the bathroom because her father had left her and her mother to go and live in California with the woman he had been having an affair with; the woman he'd been seeing so long, he had another child with her who was almost as old as Madison.

Much older and wiser and no longer interested in children's fancies, Alice could only come to the conclusion that her father - like Madison's - had abandoned her for another family, another life. How could another woman be more beautiful, more loving, more anything than her mother? No, it had to be something else. Alice had been a difficult birth, very dangerous to her mother in fact, the complications of which had made it impossible for her to have any more children. Was that it? Was the other child a son, the son Carol - her mother - had been unable to provide?

If Alice was the reason her father had left, then she must be able to do something to make him come home again. If she could only prove to him that she was good enough, that she was better than the Other Child, he would undoubtedly see the error of his ways and come back to them. The girl began to work herself to the bone in school, bringing home straight A's and joining every extracurricular she could manage. None of it worked. Okay, she just had to do something bigger, something her father couldn't ignore. Spelling Bee and Mathlete competitions to district and county levels respectively didn't do the trick, but she was sure that her eighth grade science project would be the clincher. Something topical and interesting, complicated and time consuming and impressive for a girl of her age, Alice had been so sure her breakdown of the scientific process of cloning an extinct animal - as done in the movie Jurassic Park - would get her father's attention at last. She spent months on the project, even managing to speak with actual geneticists, and so meticulous in her research and conclusions. But even taking first place at state had not been enough to bring Robert Hamilton back to New York City.

Crushed and hurt anew, as Alice entered high school, she decided she didn't care anymore. Her grades dropped, her friends changed and so did she. Angry and cynical, she lashed out at her absent father by running with a bad crowd and getting herself into trouble in more ways than one. She told herself it was because she didn't care, but really it was the same attention garnering behavior swung to the opposite extreme. If she couldn't be good enough to make her father take notice, she would just have to be bad enough, then.

This phase didn't last nearly as long as the other, as it hurt Alice far too much to see her mother cry. After the police brought her home that first and only time, she had agreed it would be a good idea to change schools, make a fresh start. At sixteen, smart and pretty and eager to be accepted, Alice had no trouble finding a place for herself in the new school. As a bonus, she discovered something else - the wonderful feeling of adult male approval and praise. So, her reestablished good grades and behavior were followed by art, drama, and soccer - all of which she excelled at and all of which were presided over by men. As always, there is more to the story, but let us return to the present for the moment, as mother is coming into the room.

"Where are these from?" Carol Hamilton asked of the men being dismissed, one by one, from Alice's computer screen.

"Kokatahi."

"Where is that? Is that Hawaii?" her tone intrigued.

"New Zealand," Alice clarified.

"Ooh, nice." Her mother chimed, turning to go. "If Daddy's in New Zealand, maybe I'll go looking for him myself."

Her daughter sighed softly, shutting down the computer and standing. "Well, he's not in Kokatahi." Carol still always called the man "Daddy" and Alice never, not even in her rebellious phase, had the heart to ask her to stop. Her mother felt sorrow and loss, but the betrayal that filled Alice's heart was hers alone. Mother humored the girl her search for her missing parent, but never so far as to give her hope that it might someday yield positive results. Alice knew Carol only let it go because she believed it was her child's way of coping, dealing, and soon she would finally accept the fact that her father was not to be found.

Alice knew better. Robert Hamilton was out there somewhere. She need only look under the right rock to find him. Then, she would be able to give him the metaphorical kick in the balls he was thirteen plus years overdue for. It certainly wasn't because she just wanted to see her dad again; wanted him to see her. Of course not.


	2. And Everything Was Going So Well

**Here's chapter two. Yeah, I gave Alice alot of baggage, hope you don't think it's too much.**

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Alice adjusted and readjusted the drape of her new dress, the shoulder straps, and her boobs filling out what passed for the bodice of the garment. She fiddled with her hair, but only just a little, knowing she was more likely to completely mess it up than make it look any better than it did. She'd pulled her long tresses back from her face in a fashionably sloppy bun secured with two chopstick-like hair picks. As she went over her appearance for the fourth or fifth time, her mother spoke from the doorway to her bedroom.

"Should I bring out the find china?" There was the subtlest hint of sarcasm in the woman's tone that made Alice turn from her reflection.

"I thought you were excited to meet him?" She balked. Carol shrugged.

"I am," the older woman insisted with hands spread before her. Her mother looked like she was about to say something, but thought better of it. "You're awfully dressed up."

"I wanted to look nice," Alice told her, feeling more out of place now in the dress than she had a moment ago. It wasn't that the dress wasn't pretty. It was. A pale blue that set off her grayish eyes nicely, it was light and flowy, with darker blue and pale, pale yellow accents; the pattern on the fabric reminded her of an Indian sari. The chest of the garment was crossed over itself just a bit and the skirt hung from there, almost like an empire waist, but not quite. The hem on the sides hung down passed her knees to points and gathered higher behind and in front. She had put new shoulder straps on the dress herself, slightly wider than they had been originally, and was rather proud of the job she had done. She'd coupled the dress with a faux crystal bracelet she'd found in her long ignored jewelry box and a pair of white dress sandals.

Her mother might have been a little more at ease if she could see the flaming chili pepper boxer shorts her daughter was wearing under the dress. Being that it was a dinner with her mother, Alice knew nothing intimate would happen between her and Jack tonight and felt safe wearing the boxers. In truth, she hated the too open feeling of just a dress and nothing between her and the wide world. It had been that way ever since a month before her twentieth birthday, when a classmate - back when she'd still been in college - had forced himself on her at a party. She had been wearing a dress that night and the feeling of unease in such a garment had never left her fully.

The one good thing that had come of the entire horrible incident was Master Yakata. Her counselor had suggested a self defense class, saying it might be beneficial and ease her feelings of helplessness. In Hiro Yakata, Alice had finally found a positive male authority figure. One who would never take advantage of her weaknesses and ceaselessly encourage her strengths.

Carol smiled gently, stepping into the room and gently fingering the material of Alice's shoulder strap. "You do. You look very nice, honey. You're really looking forward to tonight, aren't you?"

She nodded, absentmindedly swishing the light material against her legs. "I really like Jack, Mom."

Her mother nodded. "I know you do. I just… I worry, you know?"

"Yeah." She knew exactly why her mother worried, why Alice in a pretty dress with hair and make-up done gave her pause. It was almost, if not entirely, out of character for the young woman. And, as her mother had already put together, entirely Jack's doing. Even if he didn't know it.

Alice had run into Jack Chase, quite literally, as she was leaving a job interview at a business office near the dojo. If she wasn't going to school, she and her mother had decided, she would have to get a job at least. Being a junior instructor at Master Yakata's not withstanding. The girl had been wearing one of her two nice, business casual outfits - a periwinkle blouse and black dress slacks with a blazer that, since it no longer fit her, she slung over her arm as though it was simply too warm to keep it on. He'd seemed interested, but Alice took it as just passing fancy. When she saw him again, she was just coming out of the dojo and he had been seated at the fancy bistro across the street.

Jack hadn't commented on her clothing, not directly, but she knew her sweaty t-shirt and track pants had not been all that impressive. So, when the man had asked her out to lunch, she'd worn the other nice outfit in her closet. When he asked her out again, she had to go out and buy something else to wear, spending more money on clothes in the two months they had been dating than she had in the entire previous year. Yes, she had changed that little bit, afraid that if Jack saw her real wardrobe, it might be a mark off for her. But it wasn't as though it were a _bad_ change. After all, what was wrong with dressing a bit more adult, a bit more sophisticated?

And, yes, maybe it was a little soon to be introducing him to mother so formally. They hadn't even been dating for three months. That was a bit of a surprise every time she thought about it; it seemed like so much longer. But they'd been sitting on a blanket in central park on the Fourth of July, Jack's arms around her as they watched the fireworks. It was such a fairytale moment. It was then Alice decided she very much wanted Jack to meet her mother. Obviously, she hadn't just blurted it out of nowhere, they'd been having a conversation and Jack was totally in favor of the meeting, but it had all been Alice's idea. Of course, it had.

Before there could be any more awkward mother/daughter conversation the buzzer rang. Alice jumped, her heart leaping up and pounding against her ribs for attention. Her mother chuckled and led the way out of her room.

"I'm going to finish setting the table. Why don't you let your beau in?" the good humor was back in her voice and Alice was thankful for it.

He brought roses. Roses for her mother. Who does that? Only the most perfect man alive, Jack Chase, that's who. A single red rose for her, as well. So romantic it didn't matter that her favorite flower was a carnation. And he was so polite and charming during dinner, even offered to help with the dishes. Not for the first time, Alice wondered how she had gotten so lucky as to have this man in her life. He was everything she had always wanted: smart, charming, attentive, and if she was completely honest, well off.

And then Carol had brought up her father, a topic Alice had carefully avoided with Jack. She didn't want him to look at her and see someone that was to be left. As for the dishes, her mother had insisted they leave them before retiring to give the two some time to themselves. The girl avoided her lover's eyes, forcing a chuckle that said everything was alright and the subject did not bother her.

"Sorry," she shrugged, picking at the hem of her dress, not realizing how in doing so she was pulling it higher up her thigh in a rather revealing way. "Didn't meant to drop the whole family baggage thing on you."

He gently took hold of her hand, curling a knuckle under her chin to lift her gaze to his. He was smiling softly. "It's fine," he assured her and she believed him. "I want to know everything about you."

Heat flooded the girl's face at that statement. She'd been the focus of a man's attention before, but no one had ever seemed so sincere as Jack. He could tell her the moon was made of cheese and she just might believe him when he offered her a slice. A sudden, quiet beeping broke the moment as his eyes fell from hers. He sighed, giving her an apologetic smile, pulling his cell from his pocket and flipping it open. The slight flicker of displeasure across his features told her whatever it was, it wasn't good news. He flipped the device closed again and tucked it away, turning his attention back to her.

"What's up?" she couldn't help but ask. Jack paused a moment before answering.

"How would you like to meet my family?" Not the response she had been expecting, but okay.

"Are they coming to town?" Maybe that's what the message had been about. Not that it boded well, if it had made him unhappy.

"No, we'd have to go there."

Ah, so they had told him they weren't coming to town. Whoever they were. Parents? Siblings? It only just now occurred to Alice that she knew very little about Jack's family. If she was completely honest with herself, she knew nothing about Jack's family. "Oh, okay. When?" Hopefully, it wasn't too far away; i.e. not so far they would have to fly.

He smiled charmingly. "How about tonight?"

Alice returned his smile, going along with the joke. "Oh, sure. Just let me get my coat." She teased back. When Jack only continued to look at her, it sunk in that he was serious. "You're kidding."

"It'll be an adventure," he coaxed, the charming smile taking on a hint of challenge. Oh, he knew her very well, knew that she was always up for a good challenge, but this was something else entirely. "Some things are more exciting on the spur of the moment, don't you think?"

Her brows furrowed and she shook her head. "Not things like this. Meeting your parents? I'd have to… get myself together." Pull myself together is more like it. As huge as introducing him to her mother had been, it was entirely hypocritical for her to be reacting like this to meeting his family, but she couldn't help it. Jack was perfect and she.. Well, she wasn't.

"Alice, you're perfect just as you are," he insisted and she might have believed him, might have let him convince her if he hadn't added, "And we can be back by… Monday morning."

It was Thursday night now, which meant the weekend out of town. If he expected her to jump on his private jet, he had another thing coming. Not that she knew whether he had a private jet or not, but that beside the point. Alice stood from her seat, pacing away from the table. It wasn't like Jack to push when he knew she didn't want to be pushed.

"Alice, what's wrong? Don't you want to meet my family? Be part of my life?" The question was asked in a soft, almost hurt tone and she hurried to cover her refusal with any reason she could find.

"No, Jack, but…" she grasped at the first straw she could find. "What if they don't approve of me?"

He seemed amused by her concern, which Alice hoped meant he already knew how they would feel about her. Picking his coat up off the back of his chair, Jack reached into one of the pockets. "They'll approve of you-" he said, pulling out a small, round box "-when they see you with this."

Alice blinked, tilting her head to the side curiously as he handed her the box. His amusement grew as he watched her try to open the thing for a moment before showing pity on her. He moved behind the girl and leaned in close.

"It's got a hidden catch," he explained. It would have, wouldn't it? He reached around her and Alice could smell his cologne, something rich and expensive that tickled her nose and almost made her want to sneeze. She could feel the heat coming off his body against her arms and back as he pressed his fingers to secret places on the box and twisted it open with a little click.

Inside the box was a ring. It was finely crafted of gold with small green stones set around a larger nearly clear crystal. It wasn't something she would have bought in a shop, but looked like an antique so she could only guess how expensive it was.

"It looks really old," was all she could say. Because, while nice, it wasn't what she would have called beautiful.

"It's been in my family for years." So a family heirloom, that explained the old fashioned design of the piece. But, why was she showing it to her? She pulled away and turned to face him.

"Wait, are you giving me this?" she asked in disbelief. The man actually smiled, looking for all the world pleased with himself.

"Would you like to try it on?"

Alice shook her head, completely taken aback by his attitude in the situation. "Jack, a ring like this, a family heirloom… it means something. And this is too fast." She pushed the box, ring inside, back into his hands. What could he have been thinking?

"Okay. I'm sorry I got the wrong idea," he apologized, laying a hand over his heart. But instead of taking her words seriously, he just pressed forward. "But maybe after you've seen my home, met my friends-"

"No, Jack. I just told you, no," she repeated sternly, stepping further back away from him. He looked genuinely surprised by her denial of him and for a moment Alice thought maybe _she_ was the one reacting unreasonably. "Not tonight." She just needed time to think, that's all. Surely he would understand that. "You know, maybe just.. In a few days…"

"Alice-" he began, stepping towards her.

"Please," she said sharply, too sharply if the way he stopped mid-step was any indication. "Just give me some time?"

He remained silent for a moment, his expression unreadable to her. "Alright," he finally said. Picking up his coat, he moved towards the door and she followed, hating that she had somehow driven a wedge between them. She opened the door and he turned to face her. "I'll give you all the time I can spare." His tone was gentle, but his words did nothing to comfort her. The time he could spare, what did that mean? Would he leave her if she didn't make up her mind quickly enough?

Jack leaned in, wrapping her in a warm embrace. Though his words had been enigmatic, the message in his touch was always clear. He cared for her. His soft lips pressed to her hair, her cheek and finally her lips.

"Goodnight, Alice."

And then he was out the door and she was closing it. She turned away, walking blindly, and found herself face to face with one of two huge mirrors her mother had hung near the door, facing each other because she liked the way the reflections seemed to go on forever. The girl looked at herself, into her own gray eyes.

"What the Hell just happened?"


	3. That Wasn't the Plan

**I dunno how good a job I did of describing Alice's dress. I don't know anything about fashion or sewing, so I'm sorry if I didn't get across what I wanted it to look like. I can't get the link to post, but if you search Google for Tradeindia Cocktail Halter, the first link takes you to the dress that inspired me.**

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Sighing, Alice kicked off those stupid, uncomfortable sandals. Well, that hadn't gone at all like she'd planned. The girl went back into the dining area and stared at the remnants of what had been a truly pleasant meal. Empty plates and glasses had never seemed so depressing before. Might as well make herself useful. She started clearing off the table, stacking the plates and carrying them into the kitchen.

"Dammit!" The dishes clattered into the sink. She'd lost her grip, but luckily, they only fell a few inches. It never ceased to amaze the girl that while she was as graceful as a cat in the dojo, she could be so inexplicably clumsy in her everyday life. The ruckus apparently was loud enough to raise her mother's attention, as the older woman called down the hall.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just stupid," Aice called back unhappily. As she was double checking to make sure she had not cracked any of the plates, Carol peered into the kitchen.

"I thought I said to leave the… where's Jack?"

The younger Hamilton tried to keep her back from stiffening as she spoke, a sure sign she was lying through her teeth. "He got a phone call from work or something and had to leave." She shrugged, like it was no big deal.

"Oh, that's too bad." The lie had been accepted and filed away as truth, for which Alice was grateful. She did not want to have to explain the way she'd muddled Jack's attempt at moving their relationship to the next level.

"I'll see him tomorrow." It wasn't a lie in the strictest sense. There was a chance she might him the next day, after all.

"That's good. You know, you really can just leave the dishes," her mother insisted. The girl shook her head, not looking up.

"Nah, they'll get all gross and crusty. Might as well just do them now." Plus, it gave her something to do with herself other than going over the ways she'd screwed up tonight.

"Alright. Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Night, mom." The older woman's quiet footsteps retreated, but not all the way to her bedroom. Then, they stopped altogether.

"What's this?" came Carol's voice, sounding pleasantly curious. Alice abandoned the dishes to see what her mother was talking about.

"What's what?" She asked it a split second before her eyes fell on the small, round box held carefully in her mothers fingers. "Crap!"

"What's wrong?" Her mothers deep blue eyes turned to her in confusion and burgeoning concern.

"It's Jack's," Alice explained, hurrying to grab up her discarded sandals from the floor.

"Well, if he forgot it, can't you just give it to him tomorrow?" See, kids? This is what lying gets you. The girl hopped on one foot as she struggled with the second sandal. He'd only just left and, as Jack did not drive, it would take at least a few minutes to catch a cab. If she hurried, she could catch him before he caught it.

"It's important," she told her mother, heavy on the vague. Sandal finally on, she snatched the box from Carol's grasp and hurried out the door. "Be right back."

Alice's house was actually the second story of a two family brownstone. She hurried down the stairway that connected her front door to the lobby and burst out the main entrance. The street was fairly empty, only a few people on the sidewalk and no cars moving down the road just at that moment.

"Jack?" She called, looking left and right as she made her way quickly down the front steps. One the sidewalk proper she could see further, but still no Jack. Had he just lucked out and caught a cab as it was passing her home? More likely, he'd started walking and was already around the corner at the west end of her block. Alice jogged off in that direction, hoping to catch him and return the ring. He must have set it down or dropped it when he kissed her goodnight. Four or five houses down from her own, the street turned from residential to quaint businesses. As she passed the alley between Pink Pendant Antiques and Wild Meadow Florists, she heard a man's distressed shout.

Someone in trouble took precedence over her jumbled love life, so she took off down the alley. Her hand when to her hip reflexively, but no such luck. Of course, expecting to find Jack on her stoop, Alice had run out of the house without her cell phone. She couldn't call the police right there, but she still had to see what was going on and if she could help. The unmistakable sound of flesh being struck came to her ears and her heart rate quadrupled, then stopped altogether as she reached the delivery area behind Pink Pendant and saw Jack, _her_ Jack, being forced into the back of a van.

"Jack!" she pumped her short legs - the bane of her existence at the best of times - for all they were worth. Which apparently wasn't much as the assailants quickly closed up the van and peeled out down the service road. "_Jack!_"

No, no, no! She hadn't made it in time. She hadn't even managed to get the van's license plate number. Shit, shit, shit! Well, staring after the departing vehicle would do no one any good. The only thing she could do for Jack right now was get back to her place as fast as possible and call the police before the van got too far away. Maybe the cops could intercept it, if she was quick enough. This plan was brought to a screeching halt as she turned just in time to see a hefty man, white haired, but quite a bit larger than her step out of the shadows. He didn't look like a hood, was in fact, dressed in a distinguished silver-gray suit jacket, eggshell colored vest and matching silver-gray tie. Somehow, his impeccable garb only made him seem more sinister, however.

"I'm afraid he's gone," the stranger said with feign regret. His accent was unmistakably British, but not like Jack's. Where Jack's voice imparted an impression of good breeding and education, this man sounded simply haughty and full of self importance.

"What do you want?" Not that she really cared what he wanted, but there was no mistaking him as a threat and she needed to be very careful; alone in a dark alley with a strange and menacing man.

"I'm a friend of Jack's." He told her. Right, like she'd believe that in a thousand years. "I want to help him."

"Then why didn't you? And who are those guys?" This, of course, assuming he had anything to do with Jack and his attackers at all. He could have just been nearby and heard her call Jack's name, using the knowledge as a ruse now that she was all alone and seemingly helpless.

"Jack took something that didn't belong to him," the man said, stepping closer. Alice moved back instinctively. He stepped to the side, obviously intent on circling the girl. _Like a shark._ She didn't think so, every step he took, she countered, not about to let him get the upper hand. All the while, she kept her ears open for any more hidden accomplices. "We need it back."

"What are you talking about?" Jack wasn't a thief. The very idea was preposterous. It was the first time Alice had ever used the one preposterous, if even only in her mind, in an actual real world setting. The white-haired man stopped, holding out his hand, palm up.

"The ring, Alice." Her mouth went dry as a desert, fingers clenching around the ring box in her hand, hidden in the flowing folds of her dress. He knew her name, knew that Jack had the ring, knew he'd given it to her. Maybe it hadn't been an accident, leaving the ring in her house. If he knew he was being followed, Jack might have left it behind to keep it safe. Just another time she'd screwed up tonight, it seemed.

"How do you know my name?" She demanded, stalling as she carefully fingered the hidden catch, opening the box with a muted click she hoped the man wouldn't catch. "Where have you taken Jack?"

"He's quite safe." His bored tone was starting to grate at her nerves. How could he be so calm? It made her even more uneasy, if that were possible.

"Yeah? Then bring him back and let him tell me himself." That was a stupid order, but she needed to keep the man talking as she slipped the ring from the box and onto her finger.

"I'm afraid he's got to go back with me to face charges." What happened to being his friend? Both of then knew this whole conversation of bullshit. It was just a matter of who would make the first move to end it. Inadvertently, it was Alice. As she closed the ring box back up, it snapped and clicked much more loudly than it had when it was opened. The man heard it, his eyes widening, lip curling viciously. "You do have it!" He practically hissed, lunging for her.

Alice stepped back and to the side, using his own momentum against him and shoving the man against the building behind her. Dropping the ring box, she tried to secure his arms behind him. If she could immobilize him, she could shout until someone passing on the street heard her and called the police. Once in custody, the man could be linked back to his cohorts and Jack found and rescued. But the old bastard had a trick or two of his own and she was not prepared when, while trying to knock it from his grasp, the head of his cane popped off and struck her in the mouth.

Stunned, Alice reeled back. Luckily, the man was more concerned with the ring than her and he scrambled to pick up the box from where it had rolled when she dropped it. Prize in hand, the stranger bolted. As much as he could, anyway. It was quite obvious from his awkward gate that the cane had been for more than show. Ignoring the blood that now dribbled down her chin, Alice darted after him.

"Hey!" She pushed herself far harder than she ever had on the soccer field. Jack's life was quite possibly at stake here.

The old man seemed to know where he was going, which did not bode well. His twin pigtails bounced against his back as he tried to elude her, dashing into a building. She knew better than to follow him inside, not knowing where he would be once she entered. He could be waiting just inside the door, cane raised and ready. But she threw caution to the wind, not even hesitating before yanking the heavy industrial door open and plunging headlong into the near darkness of the building.

To her left she could hear metal clanging rhythmically and knew it was the sound of feet on stairs. Sure enough, she found an iron stair case and scrambled up it. The footfalls were getting further ahead of her and that was unacceptable. Though her legs burned and her side ached, Alice pushed herself harder. There was an archway at the top of the stairs, leading into another large room. Boxes and crates were piled high just beyond the doorway, making a false hallway she had to follow. Once out of this, the room opened up again. At the far end, leaning against the wall, was a huge, ornate mirror. This building must be the warehouse for the antiquities shop. Light fell on the mirror from behind another stack of crates. It must be an exit, must be where the man was headed.

Alice shot across the room. If the man got outside before she caught up, she'd have no idea which way he went and would surely lose his trail. Not slowing at all, she threw her hands out to use the mirror as a bumper as she made the turn to head for the door. Instead of smooth, cool glass against her palms, the girl felt only open air. It was like the mirror wasn't even there. Unable to stop, Alice's momentum carried her over and she braced herself, expecting to shatter the mirror and be showered with broken glass. Instead, she fell. And kept falling. The shock of dropping through nothingness stole her breath, keeping her from letting out the shriek that wanted to burst from her lungs.

When she hit the ground, for a moment she thought, _I must be dead, now._ It was an insane notion, as if she were dead, how could she even be thinking such a thing? The landing hadn't even hurt. She pushed against the grass, getting to her hands and knees. Grass? Yes, grass. She was laying on a patch of grass, surrounded by brightly colored wildflowers. This was not the strangest thing about her current location. For the patch of grass was situated at the end of a long hallway, flooded with several inches of water. Broken florescent bulbs flickered eerily, here and there one hung down from its mounting. Alice could only stare as the hair on the back of her neck and arms raised. It was like she had fallen into Silent Hill or Resident Evil. And how creepy was that?

She heard a frantic splashing echo from one of the rooms off the hallway and leapt to her feet. What kind of horror would emerge from one of those open doorways now that it knew she was there? A husky man in a suit jacket, that's who. He turned to look down the hall, getting his bearings. When he saw Alice, he bolted again.

"Hey!" She shouted again, chasing after him. Sandals are not made for high speed pursuits. Especially not through water littered with hidden bits of debris. She tripped and fell twice, not only getting herself drenched, but losing sight of her quarry yet again. She did manage to get around a corner to what appeared to be the main entrance to whatever building she now found herself in just in time to see a flash of flowing white braid and the door closing behind. She followed after.

Had Alice not been holding onto the door's push handle, she would have surely fallen over the edge. The edge of what? The world, apparently. There was maybe three feet of ground outside the building's door and then nothing but air. She gasped so hard she nearly swallowed her tongue, flinging herself back against the double doors. The air rushed from her lungs again, her stomach heaved and clenched as if unsure what to do with its contents. If she had not already been soaking wet from the flooded hallway, she would have been now anyway with sweat.

Wrenching her eyes from the chasm before her, Alice took in the completely foreign cityscape. Sky scrapers all look pretty much the same, tall monoliths of steel and glass, but the ones presented to the girl now were disturbing. Like a patchwork city, building styles of different eras were stacked on top of one another with no rhyme or reason. It was so wrong it almost frightened her to look at them. Or maybe we frightened her was that they were all so tall that they faded off into a hazy mist before she could see the actual ground. If there actually was ground at all.

"Oh god, where am I?"


	4. Welcome to the Tea Shop

**Where's Hatter, Random? -cries- and I thought you loved me for ME! Oh well. As long as you read and leave feedback, I'm happy. So, this chapter is longer than any two of the previous three, but I think Hatter deserves it, don't you?**

* * *

She could see around her, but not because of street lights. It was somehow daytime again, or some variation of it - dawn or dusk. It had been after nine when she'd run out of her house after Jack, so how was that possible? To her right there was a loud clang, followed by an equally loud curse. Thank God for small favors, the distraction caught her attention away from the pit of despair. The sinister man had apparently cracked his shin on what looked like a metal chimney sticking up from the ground at the end of the building before which she stood. Faced with the bizarre city and extreme drop off before her, Alice had all but forgotten about the man - and Jack. He saw her see him and took off around the corner. She went after him without thinking. Thinking could only lead to badness when certain death waited for her only three feet away.

She picked her way across a mound of rubble extending out from the back of the next building over, which had collapsed almost entirely. Or, at least, the part on this level. Her stomach lurched and tried to empty when the thought struck her that, if these buildings were as dilapidated as all that, the whole tower could collapse at any moment. If the mist was any indication, she'd have a long time to think about death on her way down to meet it.

"Get him inside," came the haughty voice, now strained and out of breath. Alice pressed herself against the wall closest her, taking comfort in its solidness despite her misgivings about its structural integrity. Before her now was far more open air than she was comfortable with, as the ledge of earth extended between the tower next to which she stood and across the void to another. This new sky scraper looked to be in much better condition than the ones she had already passed.

The white haired man was joining up with two of the men who had kidnapped her Jack. She knew this not because she had gotten a good look at them, but because right now they were dragging her unconscious lover between them. The group made its way up the stairs and into the building and Alice only hesitated a moment before following. She might have taken note of the address and run home to call the police, but somehow she was quite certain this was not New York and there was very little chance of her making it home on her own. Plus, if she told the cops Jack had been snatched away to a city in the clouds, they'd lock her up instead of the bad guys.

The double doors leading into the structure were marked with a strange emblem, a shield with a red eye, topped by a white bunny, with the words "White Rabbit" across it. White Rabbit? She pressed her ear to the door, listening as the men moved further away. She needed to follow them now, but not be seen. Three of them could easily overtake her in this unfamiliar place. As her hand gripped the door handle, a loud rumbling caught her ear. Not entirely unlike a jet engine, the sound grew to a deafening volume as what looked for all the world like a giant, mechanical beetle came hovering from between the buildings. She was too taken aback by the strange flying machine to think clearly and so, when it turned its too bright spot light on her, she did not dart away quickly enough.

The light felt scalding on the skin of her forearm and Alice gasped in pain and surprise. She yanked the door open and all but fell inside the building, away from the harsh beam of heat. Inside, in the dimness, she cradled her arm and looked it over, expecting to see redness or even blisters. Instead, the pain faded almost immediately and on her forearm, standing out in stark contrast to the milky, pale skin was a dark green mark. She must have gotten something on her when she was splashing through that stagnate water in the hallway. Yuck. She tried to brush it off, but it remained in place, like it was painted on. She looked closer and saw the mark was actually quite intricate and, if she had to describe it, she'd have said it looked like stylized seaweed. Why wouldn't it come off?

"This way." The man she had been chasing's voice brought her from her revere. She'd worry about the strange mark later. It wasn't until she started toward the voice that Alice noticed this building was even stranger than the last one. From Silent Hill to Troll, she was now surrounded by plants which grew out of the very floor of the structure. For a moment, she thought maybe this was all a dream. But if it was a dream, she would not have thought it was a dream, now would she? Alice moved as quickly and quietly as she could after the men.

The corridor she was in ended in a T-junction. To her right was a dead end, but to the left she could see artificial light. She crept silently down the hall, listening hard for voices or footsteps, but could only hear her own shallow breathing. The light was coming from a small room with padded walls. Padded walls seemed appropriate for a mad house and this too strange city she found herself in seemed to fit the bill. The only thing in the room was a small table, on which stood a small crystal vial of some pink liquid. The tag read "Drink Me" and she almost snorted, but caught herself. Obviously Jack's captors were not in this room, but they had to be nearby. There were small slots set into each of the padded walls, which meant there must be something on the other side. Perhaps there was a secret way through, which seemed reasonable. More reasonable than four men vanishing into thin air, anyway.

Alice crouched down and carefully slid one of the slots open, peering through into the next room. Expecting to see more deteriorated hallways filled with plants, she gasped when her eyes found small boxes stacked on top of each other and side by side like cubbyholes. Each box held a person, all curled up and seemingly asleep. Each person bore the same seaweed like mark as she now did, as well.

"What happened to you?" she whispered to the people, knowing full well they would not be able to hear her. They probably wouldn't know anyway, she guessed. She gasped anew as she suddenly recognized one of the people. A homeless man who frequented the street where her grocery store was located. The locals called him Scary Larry, as the man had obvious mental problems an would often argue angrily with himself. Alice had bought him fruit and sandwiches on more than one occasion. How the Hell did he get here?

_SHUNK!_ She whirled around, only to see the doorway she'd just come through seal off with another padded wall. "No!" she threw herself against it, pounding at the soft padding with her fists. Somewhere outside the room, the sound of a hydraulic press started up and Alice shrieked, falling to the floor as the ceiling started to descend on her. "No! Stop!" She cried, terror curling her into herself in a corner of the room. When it was mere inches from her head, it did stop, but before she could feel any relief, another press kicked on and the walls started closing in on her. Jesus Christ, it was a nightmare. She was going to be crushed to death by a booby trapped room, like something out of a horror movie. But again, like the ceiling, the walls stopped inches from her, leaving her in a box about the size of a large dog house.

The one remaining viewing slot slid open and she scrambled to look through it, reeling back when the cold blue eyes of the sinister man peered in at her. "Good, we've got her." Got her? It had been a trap all along. She hadn't been chasing him, he'd been leading her. "Take them away." Shit.

"Let me out of here!" She demanded, knowing it was futile, but not able to stop herself.

"Temper, temper," the horrible man mocked.

"You can't do this!"

"You shouldn't have followed me, little oyster." His tone was snidely admonishing and before she could respond, he'd closed the slot again. She heard him lock it. Her shouts for him to come back and let her out were cut off when the box began to move. Now Alice knew the purpose of the padding as she was jostled about as it was moved. Finally, her tiny prison stopped bouncing about and fell into a rhythmic sort of rocking. They must have loaded her, and the others presumably, onto a truck or something for transport. It was dark in the box, but light spilled under the bottom edges.

She felt along the gap with her fingers. There had to be some kind of latch keeping the box together. If she could just find it, maybe… There. It wasn't a hinge, it was a straight piece of metal and as she pushed at it with her fingertips, the box bounced slightly and the piece moved just a hair. Her heart leapt with hope. Her fingers wouldn't do for this, as the gap was small and the angle awkward. She pulled the chopsticks from her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders, and used them together as a small lever. Every time the box bounced, the bit of metal moved further. Once it was open, she would try to lift the box. If it was on a hinge, it would most likely swing upwards. If not, there were probably three more latches for her to jimmy open before she could lift it off. Either way, she now had a chance at escape.

What had had not expected was for the floor to drop out from under her suddenly. With a sort scream, she fell. Her fingers closed around the metal latch which had been keeping the box closed. Talk about nightmares coming to life, Alice's wits immediately evacuated her body as she took in the fact that she was not on a truck, but suspended at least fifty feet in the air above some large body of water.

"Jesus Christ!" she gasped out, kicking her feet as she tried to somehow get back up into the box. Her fingers quickly went numb and, as they started to give out, the force of her terror cause her stomach to finally revolt and she vomited. The spasm caused her to lose her grip entirely. What little air that was left in her lungs rushed out in a blood curdling scream as she fell. Fear of heights and fear of water were two different things and Alice knew her way around a diving board. She could not handle the high dive, but the medium platform had not been a problem, so her body instinctively assumed the position she'd learned in high school swim class - feet together, thighs and buttocks clenched, arms crossed over her chest.

The water was a crushing shock of cold and cold and cold. She went deep, the force of her fall driving her into the water like a bullet. The chill made her suck in an involuntary breath, but instead of air, she drew a lungful of water. Her vision threatened to black over but she fought it, clawing her way to the surface. The liquid spewed from her chest, mingling with the lovely meal her mother had prepared. Not as good the second time around, unfortunately.

Alice struggled to get herself, mind and body, under control. Deep breaths of cool air did much to clear her head. She treaded water, rinsing her mouth of the awful taste there as she tried to get her bearings. Looking up she could see another large beetle-like machine making its way across the lake, or maybe it was the same one. She didn't know. What she did know was that where ever it was heading was too far for her to swim. She turned in the water and saw the city did, in fact, have a bottom. It was at least half a mile behind her, so she swam at a steady pace. Her biggest threat now was the cold of the water seeping into her muscles and bones, making her more and more tired with every stroke. She dared not take a break, however, fearing - quite correctly - that if she let herself stop, she would never make it.

But finally, she was among the forest of skyscrapers again, the lake flowing into the city in a canal system reminiscent of Venice. In trying to make her way back onto solid ground, Alice made a startling and unhappy discovery. Her belief that water and the ground always went hand in hand had been false, for the canal in which she swam, as it turned out, appeared to be some sort of aqueduct and she was no closer to the ground level of the city than she had been before. So, which had come first, the city or the lake? She didn't really care. Finally she reached a place where the walkway as almost level with the water and struggled to pull herself out.

When her torso was securely on something relatively solid, Alice allowed herself to rest, panting heavily from exertion. She counted in her head, insisting to herself that she must get up and vertical in no more than three minutes for fear that she might just fall asleep right here. Where ever here was, she was certain it was no place to fall asleep, even if her legs weren't still dangling in the water. Oddly enough, the thought that kept running through her mind during the swim and now that she was out of danger of drowning was how her dress was certainly ruined. It might seemed trivial, but the thing had cost her sixty dollars! The original price tag had been well over a hundred, but one of the thin spaghetti straps had been broken so the garment had been marked way down. This suited Alice, who was handy enough with a needle that she had easily made matching replacements. On the heels of the ruined dress were the lost sandals. One had been knocked off when she hit the water and the other she'd abandoned as a hindrance two minutes into her swim. What good was one uncomfortable sandal anyway?

Her deep breathing brought a rancid stench into her nose and had she not already emptied her stomach in the lake, she would more than likely have done so now. Opening her eyes, she found herself less than three feet from a dead, rotting rat corpse in a wire trap. Ugh! She pushed against the ground, clumsily getting her feet under her so she could get away from the smell, but was jolted again when she saw that she was not alone with the dead rodent. It was a man, slightly taller than she, old and skinny and malnourished with stringy hair so dark with grease and dirt she couldn't have guessed at its actual color. He wore a black slicker and cap, like a fisherman might, which was shiny with awfulness and crusted with foulness she didn't even want to contemplate.

He was also holding a very large knife. Despite the cold induced weariness in her bones, Alice snapped into a fighting stance. "Don't even think about it, buddy," she warned. The man's eyes went to her arm and widened.

"Yer an oyster?" Surprise and, strangely, a touch of fear filled his words. He held up his hands in surrender, quickly putting the knife away. "I don't want nothing to do with ya," he insisted, bending to gather up the rat trap, a small net, and shovel with quick, jittery movements. "I'm a working man and I don't want no trouble."

"Same here," Alice assured him, lowering her hands. She didn't take her guard down completely, though, even if he didn't seem like a threat any longer. A now familiar roaring filled the air and the man grabbed her arm, yanking her away from the water and out of the sight of another large flying machine as it passed.

"Suits see us together, we'd _both_ be dead," he said by way of explanation. By suits he must be referring to the white haired man and his cohorts, who had all been dressed quite dapperly. He let her go and scurried off, obviously trying to put some distance between the two of them. She followed after him, despite his desire to get away.

"Wait, please! I need help," she beseeched him. Yes, he was creepy and gross, but he was the nearest person to her and should at least be able to point her in the right direction.

"Go away. Can't help no oyster," he responded without even looking back.

"Then tell me who can!" she pleaded, still following on his heels.

"No one gonna help you here." She took him at his word for now, not knowing anything about this strange place she had found herself.

"I can pay you!" Alice insisted, at her wits' end. It wasn't entirely a lie, she had money… at home. This seemed to bring the man up short. He turned back to face the girl.

"Eh?" Okay, now she had his attention, that was a start.

She straightened her spine and lied through her teeth. "I have some money and if you help me, I'll give it to you." That was a point against her karma, but she'd just have to deal with that later. Give twenty bucks to the Salvation Army or something to make up for it.

"Money?" The man came closer, looking intrigued by her offer. Okay, so far so good.

"I'm looking for my friend, Jack. He was taken away by some of those suits you mentioned. I think he was, anyway."

"An oyster like you?" She shrugged, not having a clue what he was talking about.

"Yeah, I guess so. My name is Alice Hamil-"

"Alice?" He blinked, shocked like she'd told him she was Cleopatra. "_The_ Alice?"

She took a step back from him now and it was his turn to pursue her. "No." Whoever the Alice was, it wasn't her.

"The Alice _of Legend_?" Okay, great. She'd enlisted the help of a nuthatch.

"No. Look, you're kind of freaking me out," she admitted, holding up her hands to ward him off from coming closer. "My friend is probably locked up in that beetle thing. Do you know where it's headed? Or maybe where I can find the police?" Even as weird as this place was, there had to be police. There were police everywhere, after all.

The man smiled eagerly. "You come with me." He caught hold of her hand and scampered off, dragging her behind him. Her skin crawled where he touched her, but she let him pull her along, not having much of a choice. He led the way down alleys between more crumbling buildings. She didn't complain about having to scramble over debris with bare feet. So long as he kept to places she couldn't see the drop off, Alice was just peachy, thank you very much. Her tetanus shot was up to date.

Soon enough, open space loomed before them and she tried to keep her eyes on anything but the lack of ground. A big red, European style phone booth did the trick. She focused on that as the man stopped beside it.

"Here," he said, setting down his trap and tools and pulling a nasty red bandana from his pocket. He lifted her arm and wrapped it around her, covering the green mark.

Ugh, no, she did not want that on her skin. "No, thank you, I'm fine," she protested ridiculously. I'm fine? Really, Alice? The man scoffed, knotting the bandana securely with disgustingly grimy fingers.

"They see you, oyster, you dead."

She wanted very much to know why the Hell he kept calling her that, but the idea of being dead outweighed a strange nickname. "They who?" What she should have asked was why he'd taken her someplace there were people who might kill her. He ignored her question.

"First I go," he instructed firmly, if a little manic. "Count ten, then follow. Got it?"

Alice shook her head. "No, don't got it. What's in there?"

The man was already scampering off, her denial apparently not registering. "A man who knows!"

"A man who knows what?" But he had already crossed the bit of ground bridging the chasm between the phone booth and the building he'd brought her to. It was only now that Alice took a good look at it. Much like the others, if only in slightly better shape, the building sported a large electronic crawl that proclaimed "Tea Shop" over and over in glowing red letters. Tea Shop?

Alice huffed frustrated and leaned against the booth. She looked down at the filthy cloth on her arm and had to make a fist with her hand to keep from pulling it off. Death beat out gross every time. She counted to ten and then ten again, just in case her anxiousness was making her go too fast. It also afforded her a few more seconds to avoid crossing the little not-bridge. There was nothing for it, she had to go. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she locked her eyes on the door of the Tea Shop and ran the distance across. Her thighs burned as she took the stairs two at a time, but it was worth it when she was inside and out of sight of the abyss.

Inside she found the Tea Shop filled with men and women, all shouting at once and waving slips of paper in the air. A man stood before a large chalk board, marked off into grids, writing, erasing, and rewriting numbers under categories with names like: Greed, Ecstasy, and Peace. It was more like a stock exchange than any kind of shop, tea or otherwise. Alice made her way across the room, noticing more people along the walls, browsing lighted glass shelving stocked with bottles. Each bottle held about an inch of colored liquid and, when she looked closer, were labeled with the same words as on the chalk board.

_Bam!_ The sudden banging of a gavel made her head snap around so fast, her neck clicked. The room fell silent as another pound of the gavel rang out. All eyes turned to the front of the room where a small man in a very large fur coat stood behind a podium. He was only recognizable as a man by his thick mustache, so effeminate were his features. When he spoke, the pretty man had a voice to match his looks.

"I have an important announcement," he declared. " A new tea has just come on the market." Was that what was in the bottles? Types of tea? Well, Alice, it is called the Tea Shop. Derp. The little man leaned against his podium, his voice taking on an almost empathic tone. "Ever get that guilty feeling? Huh? Maybe you abandoned the wife and kids and left them without a crumb to split between them? Or maybe you killed someone… A relative, or neighbor?"

What the Hell? She saw people around the room shifting uncomfortably as the man went on. He couldn't be serious.

"And that's left that niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach; that's growing little by little into a dull, _throbbing_ pain. Gnawing away at you, undermining your confidence, and making you feel sick… and worthless… and fearful." He paused then. You had to hand to him, the guy had a flare for the dramatic. "Well, fear no longer!" He proclaimed joyfully, slapping a hand against his podium. He pulled one of those bottles from under it, this one filled with clear liquid Alice assumed was not water. "Because, Clear Conscience has finally arrived! Ha ha! That latest wonder of wonder from that remarkable wonder of _all _wonders - The Hearts Casino!" He laughed again, lifting the bottle in a toast to his audience… and promptly fell asleep. Wow, guess that speech had taken a lot out of the little guy.

The shouting instantly resumed, people clamoring to be heard over each other. Alice jumped when someone caught her elbow, turned to see the dirty man in his slicker at her side. It was at this point that she realized he no longer carried the dead rat and that the sickening smell was actually coming from him.

"This way," he tugged her through the crowd and out a side door. They passed down a long hallway. The cacophony of voices faded behind them as they went through another door and turned onto yet another hallway. This corridor was open ended and, as they grew closer, Alice could see more plants growing from the floor. Then, a lushly green, perfectly manicured… lawn. And on the lawn were pieces of moderately art deco furniture that only matched because they were all done in white, and chrome, and glass. The pairing of nouveau furnishings and grass seemed to go together somehow, because really, at this point, why not?

As her guide brought her to a halt just at the edge of the grass, Alice noticed a tallish, tightly woven and shellacked straw hat peering over the top of a large, dramatically exaggerated wing-backed chair.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" came a disembodied voice from the chair, presumably under the hat. The girl blinked, taken aback by the offer.

"Uh… no? Thank you," she stuttered her reply. Well, he had not brought her to the police, that was certain. She looked at the man at her side. "Who is this?"

The white chair swiveled around and for an instant Alice was certain either The Claw or Dr. Evil would be sitting in it, stroking a chubby feline. Instead, the chair seated a lanky man, no more than twenty-eight or twenty-nine years and old dressed like swinger from the seventies. Brown work boots under deep maroon slacks, a wildly patterned shirt that looked to be silk in shades of crimson and gold - unbuttoned to show his collarbone, a loose and sloppily tied neck tie - probably silk also, a well worn, fawn-colored leather jacket and, of course, the hat. The outfit worked in a moderately sleazy kind of way. The man himself was attractive, she supposed. He had a strong jaw and softly pink lips all tied up in a bow. Rugged stubble was carefully maintained, more than likely in an effort to give him a more masculine appearance and draw attention away from his "adorable" button nose. His black hair was as wild as his shirt, sticking out from under his hat as though trying to escape, his bangs actually curled upwards over the brim. But the most striking feature was without a doubt his eyes; dark and deep, sharp as diamond cut glass.

"A friend," he answered her question with an air of surprise. "I hope."

Like Jack and Mr. Sinister, this man had a British accent. Though, unlike the upper class lilts of the other two, his was much less proper and formal; not unpleasantly base, though a bit nasally.

"I run the Tea Shop," he explained. The man by Alice's side quickly untied his bandana and gripped her arm, turning it mark-up to show the other.

"See?" Alice tugged her arm from his grasp, wiping her skin off on her wet dress only half covertly. The younger man stood, walking over to one of two glass topped desks in the room.

"How did you break out of the Scarab," he asked, searching the desktop for something.

"Sc.. That beetle thing?" She supposed it looked like a scarab as much as any other beetle. He grunted in agreement, picking up something off the desk and turning to face her. "I used my hair pick to jimmy the latch and-"

"Fell." His expression shifted ever so slightly into amusement as he leaned his butt on the desk, hands curling around the edge. She shrugged, spreading her hands in defeat.

"Yeah. Liked the lake so much, I brought some of it with me," indicating her still somewhat drippy dress. His lips twitched at her phrasing as his eyes moved over her, taking in her appearance and lack of footwear. She curled her toes under as if it could hide her bare feet, then forgot all about it when she felt a blush creep up her neck, cheeks heating. His gaze had fallen on her split lip and darkened with displeasure. "What- Where is this place?" Alice blurted out. She certainly wasn't in Kansas anymore, that much she knew.

"Oh," he lifted his hands, fingers pointing up and out, indicating the world in general presumably. "Wonderland."

Alice only stared at him. "Wonderland Tea Shop?"

"Well, a Tea Shop _in_ Wonderland," the man clarified.

"Wonderland," she repeated dubiously. He nodded. "Like the kids' book, Wonderland?"

His amusement vanished like a light flicking off, eyes on hers, unblinking, intense, and dead serious. "Does this look like a kid's story to you?" Her first impulse was to say, "kind of, yeah". But obviously, that would be the wrong thing to do at this juncture, so she obediently shook her head. "It's changed a lot since then."

"You mean it was _real_?" That was nuts. Of course, if you recall, Alice, you fell through a mirror in New York and ended up here, after all. There was that.

He stood away from the desk, coming towards her. In his hand, what he had picked up off the desk, was a magnifying glass. "You oysters don't know how to find us so -excuse me." This close, the man almost loomed. Not so tall as Jack, but still quite a few inches taller than Alice herself. (Though, to be honest, most people were taller than Alice, who stood just over five foot four.) He took hold of her marked arm and lifted it, inspecting the green image closely. For some reason (probably his outfit and taste in decor), she assumed his hands would be soft, his nails manicured, but they were not. While clean, his nails were obviously chewed off, some to the quick in fact, and his hands themselves were rough in a way that said he _used_ them. The smooth band of the silver ring on his left pinky raised a few goosebumps as it slid against her skin. "You tell yourselves we don't exist. And frankly, I'd like to keep it that way."

The accusatory tone of his voice raised her hackles and Alice pulled her arm from his grasp, stepping away. "Why do you people keep calling me that?"

"What, oyster?" She nodded. He smirked and pointed the magnifying glass at her arm.

"This?" She looked at the seaweed imprinted on her skin.

"That's not gonna come off," he told her. Alice's eyes snapped up and, dumbly, she wiped at the mark. The young man shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry." He followed the word with a little chuckle that had her doubting his sincerity. then was kind enough to explain. "Only people from your world turn green when burnt by the light. It's the Suits' way of branding their catch." Well, she supposed that made sense, given that everyone in those boxes had been marked green like her. He turned away, moving to put the magnifying glass back on the desk. "And they call you 'oysters' because of the shiny little pearls that you all carry inside." His tone took on a sort of sing-songy quality on the last bit about pearls.

"What do you mean, 'pearls'?"

Before he could answer, the smelly man beside her, whom she had nearly forgotten about until he spoke up… spoke up. "She's Alice," he said eagerly, poking her in the arm to motivate her to action. "Tell him who you are."

Alice turned to the younger man who looked amused, once again. "Wow? Really?" he said with feigned amazement. He circled around behind her and Alice let him, fairly certain he wasn't about to try anything fishy. She scowled at him in annoyance and confusion when he let out a taunting, "Whooooo!" as he came around her. The two men shared a chuckle at her expense, which ended awkwardly.

The younger man slung his arm around his compatriot's shoulder and Alice cringed involuntarily. Yuck. "Ratty here thinks you're Alice."

"I am Alice."

"Of Legend," he clarified, making the words sound gravely important.

"He mentioned that," she acknowledged. When they both just looked at her in silence she shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know what that means."

The Tea Shop owner released the other man. "The last-" he looked down at his hand, rubbing his fingers together and Alice didn't even want to think of what he'd gotten on them from Ratty's slicker. Letting it go for now, he started again. "That last time a girl called Alice came here from your world," he said, circling back around her. Okay, if he did that one more time, she was going to trip him. "She brought down the whole House of Cards."

"So, that really happened?" So, the stupid theory she'd heard as a kid was true? That Alice Liddell, the girl Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (aka Lewis Carroll) had known in his twenties, was _the_ Alice and had actually traveled through the looking glass to Wonderland and lived to tell the tale.

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Made quite an impression. Although, it was a hundred and fifty years ago." He turned to Ratty admonishingly. "It can't be the same girl; oysters don't even live that long."

Ratty shrugged. "I still want a good price, Hatter." he told the other. Alice frowned, nonplussed.

"Whoa, whoa. I am not for sale!" she insisted angrily. What the Hell, man? The younger man, Hatter apparently, lifted a finger towards her for silence and she barely restrained herself from breaking it. He turned away from Ratty and looked at her, lifting his eyebrows and smirking with a little jerk of his head towards the disgusting man as if to say _get a load of this guy_. He crossed the room again, moving behind his desks to a small set of glasses shelves, lighted like the ones in the main room of the shop; holding the same glass bottles. Ratty scurried after him, but was brought up short when the younger snapped. "Not on the grass."

Hatter sighed to himself. "Right." He contemplated a moment and picked up a bottle of blue liquid. Glancing back towards Ratty, he apparently changed his mind and set it back down, then chose a pink one instead. "Here we are."

Coming back around the desk, he displayed the bottle like a game show host showing off a prize, two more rings of silver on his right pinky and ring fingers clinked against the glass lightly. "Mmm!" he hummed enthusiastically. "Pink nectar," he said, holding the bottle up and motioned with it for emphasis as he spoke. "Filled with the thrill of human excitement. Fifty oysters were drained of every last drop of hullabaloo so that you, Ratty, can… _taste_ what it feels like to win, just once." Quite the salesman he was, this tea shop owner. Ratty reached for the bottle, but he pulled it back. "Warning," his tone now serious. "Don't take it on an empty stomach and only one tiny little drop at a time otherwise the experience might _burst_ your shriveled up little heart. Got it?"

"Got it." Ratty nodded, positively giddy.

"Good," The younger man handed him the bottle. "Go." Obedient as a puppy, Ratty scampered out the door. Hatter seemed to lose interest in him the second their business was done and turned his attention back to his soiled hand, lifting it to sniff. He winced and looked to Alice with an expression that was a mixture of horror, disgust, and pity. "He really smells."

It was true, but beside the point. "Did you just _buy_ me?" She demanded. His lips twitched again and he lifted his eyebrows curiously.

"Why? Would you like to belong to me?" Har, har. Smarmy bastard.

"Yeah, we're gonna go with a no on that one. No offense," she told him sarcastically. He shrugged, unoffended. "What did you mean, 'oysters were drained'?"

Instead of answering her, he changed the subject. Which she might have resisted, but didn't, since it was the reason she had sought help. "Ratty tells me you're looking for someone." He went back onto the grass and Alice followed. The man picked up a packet off his desk, opened it, and pulled out what was unmistakably a moist toilette. This he used to clean the Ratty off his hand before tossing it in the trash.

"Yes. His name is Jack Chase. He was taken by a man… with white hair." Great. That's a lot of helpful information. Hatter picked up a cup of tea off his desk, sitting in a chair the styled after the kind used on movie sets for directors and such. "Oh, he was taken into a building with the White Rabbit logo on the doors?" Her tone was questioning and hopeful, it was all she had to go on, really.

"I see. Hmm." He lifted his teacup to take a sip. "The White Rabbit is an organization controlled by the Suits. They travel back and forth through the looking glass and vanish people from your world to ours."

And they'd taken Jack and she'd run right into their trap of her own free will. "Why?" Please don't say Soylent Green.

"To use. In the casino," Hatter told her, taking another drink.

"Use?" Something told her they weren't being taken so they could lose money at blackjack. He choked on his tea, spitting a little back into the cup.

"Did I say use?" he backpedaled, affirming her belief that something very bad was going on here. "I- Slip of the tongue," his tone dismissive as he set the cup and saucer down and stood, facing her again. "They're fine," he assured her, waving a hand as though it was nothing to worry about. "You know, they keep 'em… alive and… moderately happy."

Right. That was convincing. "I suppose going to the police to get Jack back is out of the question?"

He shook his head. "The Suits are the police in Wonderland, I'm afraid."

"Great." She sighed and wrung her hands together for a moment. "How do I get to the casino?" The next question would be, how the Hell do I get him out of the casino? Hatter's face lit up.

"That's the thing!" he exclaimed. Then, his face dropped back down to the grave expression. "You don't. Way too dangerous."

"Well, I figured that out myself," Alice told him flatly.

"Yeah?" She nodded. He pursed his lips and thought a moment, then spoke again. "Well, it just so happens I know some people." He stepped towards her, his manner turning almost seductive, which was running dangerously close to creepy. "Who know some… well, other people." Teasing little grin. "If you know what I mean." He leaned in way too close. The man had some serious issues with personal space, she decided. "It's one of the privileges of owning a Tea Shop." He popped his lips on the P and Alice jerked a little, reflexively, but no spittle actually came from his mouth. He chuckled, eyes twinkling and when she didn't join him in the joke, he admonished her gently, "Lighten up."

Turning, the man half-bounded eagerly over to a glass wardrobe that stood off to the side on his patch of grass. He pulled the doors open with a flourish. "Ta-dah!" Hatter bent and pulled out a pair of boots, like the ones he wore but black, and brought them to her. "Here, put these on. Can't have you gallivanting about Wonderland like that. Don't worry about dirtying the couch," he added when she hesitated to sit on his all white furniture in her current state.

Alice nodded and took his advice, sitting on the couch to pull the boots on as he went back to the closet. The shoes were obviously his and quite large on her, but beggars cant be choosers and she was just grateful he even cared enough to lone her them. She tied the laces as tightly as she could, but still felt clompy as she stood and took a few steps.

"Brilliant," he praised, pulling a lush purple velvet coat from the hanger. "And you should wear this," the man advised, bringing it over. "It'll cover the glow-" pointing a finger at her arm "-and keep you from catching a cold."

His concern was almost sweet. Which set her on edge, reminded her that she knew nothing about him. Not even his real name. Hatter could not be his given name any more than Ratty was the other man's. Could it? More importantly, she didn't know what he wanted in return for his assistance. She could tell he would not be as easily fooled as Ratty.

"I told Ratty I had some money, but-"

"Pieces of paper?" Hatter asked with a hint of incredulity. "Pointless." He moved behind her, lifting the coat to help her into it.

"Then why are you helping me?" Alice was realistic enough to know that people rarely, if ever, did things truly out of the kindness of their hearts. She could feel the heat coming off him onto her chilled skin as he leaned in close to answer.

"Do I need a reason to help a pretty girl in a very wet dress?" The girl jerked away, spinning to face him as she stepped back a few paces.

"Excuse me?" If he thought that was the kind of payment he was getting, the man had another thing coming. He seemed genuinely surprised by her reaction, which meant he was probably joking again and - again - she just hadn't gotten it. He frowned, jaw muscles tightening.

"Oh, I see. You don't trust me," he accused. When she didn't contradict him his jaw jutted out stubbornly. "Fine." He slammed the velvet coat onto the arm of the couch and laid his now empty hand over his heart. "I am genuinely hurt."

Alice lifted an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. "Well, you just bought me from a man named Ratty for a bottle of pink juice," she pointed out snappishly.

"Do you know why they call me 'Hatter'?" he asked, insulted.

"Because you wear a hat?" came her deadpan reply. He stopped and blinked. Apparently her answer, unintentionally, had done much to diffuse his anger.

He tsked through his teeth. "No." Then moved around her, back amongst his furniture. The man just did not want to stand still, did he? Like his mouth was attached to his legs, it was the most animated conversation Alice had ever held. She kind of liked it. "Because I'm always there when they _pass the hat_. So to speak." Ah, clever. Hatter walked towards his big white Dr. Evil chair, but kept his eyes on Alice, making grand gestures with his hands and arms. "Philanthropy, generosity, I mean, you can call it what you will, but it's who I am. And right now?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms against the top of the chair back, but that didn't stop them from moving. "Looking at you there, there's nothing I want more than to help you find…"

"Jack," she supplied.

"Jack," he repeated as though he'd never paused. "And return you both to your charming world of children's stories." Yeah, might have been more convincing if he'd actually remembered the name. Might have been, but still probably not.

"I don't believe you," she told him flat out. If he wanted something out of her, she wanted to know what it was up front. The whole thing would be a lot simpler that way. Or it wouldn't be at all. Either way.

"I know what you're thinking," Hatter said, coming towards her again. Like talking to a hummingbird. "But if I'm the frying pan, then that out there is the fire." He pointed to a door on the far wall she had not noticed before. She supposed he was right. So far he hadn't kidnapped her lover and locked her in a tiny box, so he had those points in his favor. He took in her unyielding expression and changed tactics. "I'll be square with you. I know people who like to help your kind. And if every once in a while, I scratch their backs…"

The man trailed off, brows lifted expectantly, so she finished the thought. "They'll scratch yours."

"Precisely," he smiled, pleased by her following along so well. "Lots of scratching."

That, at least, was a believable motive. By helping her, he was really helping himself. So be it. As long as she got Jack out of the casino and home safely, Hatter could use to her to get whatever favors he wanted. Alice nodded, going to get the velvet coat and pulling it on.

"Do try to keep up," came Hatter's voice from further away than she expected. She looked up and found him standing in the doorway, now open and leading outside.

Maybe she should have said yes to that cup of tea. At least then she would have gotten to sit down for a few minutes and rest. She was cold and tired and her joints and muscles were starting to ache. But the man was waiting and Jack was waiting and she had to cowboy up and put on her big girl panties. As she passed Hatter's desk, she stole a pair of pencils from the cup sitting there and quickly used them to secure her hair back in a sloppy bun.

"Okay," she said firmly. "Let's go."

* * *

**Anyone who read Dark Storm, I swear I don't have an obsession with bare-footed heroines. SciFi just likes to drop them from great heights into water and I can't help myself.**


	5. Birds of a Feather

**So, how about that Hatter folks? Hope you had a good holiday, for those of you who had a holiday, whichever holiday you had.**

* * *

Alice came to an abrupt halt a few feet from the door, not because of anything Hatter said or did, but because her knees locked and refused to let her go further. The doorway did not, as she assumed, lead out onto another of those narrow walkways - which she could have handled with acceptable levels of nausea and cold sweating. Instead, it opened out onto… nothing. A whole lot of nothing.

"I'll go first," the man told her, grabbing onto a railing set into the wall aside the door and turning to face back into the room. He stepped down into empty space and she could hear the muted metallic sound of his boot finding purchase on what had to be the rung of a ladder dropping away from his door. Yeah, he was going first, because he didn't have a choice. Alice was not about to - "Come on, then," he called, disappearing from view.

Okay, so maybe she _was_ going to. Okay, Alice, you're okay. Just… keep your eyes to yourself. She turned back to face the room, edging her way to the door. Her hands were slick with sweat and shaky when she gripped the iron railing so hard her knuckles turned white and cracked. It was a ladder, that's all, no different than the one she climbed to get into the attic at home. If it could hold Hatter's weight, her smaller frame would be no problem. Alright. She stepped down, keeping her eyes shut tight so there was no temptation to look down. Her descent was a bit slow, but steady. When she heard the thud of Hatter's boots on the "ground", she relaxed a little, knowing she was not far from the bottom.

He spoke from below her, sounding quizzically amused. "You've got shorts on under your dress?"

"What?" she squawked, eyes popping open to glare down at him. Her mouth opened to berate him for being so pervy, but her gaze saw passed him, down and down and down, and what came out was a strangled cry of fear. Her head swam for a moment and her body gave a jerk of shock, nearly causing her to lose her grip.

"Whoa!" Strong hands gripped her waist, steadying her on the ladder, then lifting her to the relative safety of the earthen catwalk. "Careful!" Hatter admonished. "You're an oyster, not a flamingo."

"You looked up my dress, you ass!"

He had the nerve to smirk down at her. "Sorry." Again, didn't sound sorry at all. "Just your bad luck I don't own any trousers that'd fit you."

Angry at her own fear and his part in her near miss, she shoved at his chest. Pushing him away took away her only secure handhold and her arm flew back, searching out the ladder. Her wrist cracked against the iron painfully, but she ignored it, gripping the metal and pressing herself against the wall like she wanted to become a part of it.

"What's the matter?" His head tilted to the side just a touch, eyes narrowed in question. Alice swallowed hard, though her throat was tight and her mouth dry.

Despite being as transparent as plastic wrap, she shook her head and tried to force lightness into her voice. "Just… got a thing about heights is all. Why couldn't you guys build the city on the ground?" She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, trying to get herself back under control.

"Look at me," he said. She shook her head, holding up a hand as if to ask for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was markedly softer, even gentle. "Alice, look at me."

She did. She couldn't help herself. Those dark eyes looked straight into hers, concerned and - shockingly - patient. He lifted his hand, palm up, and waited. He didn't push, didn't try to bluster through her fear, just waited. Her hand was still shaking when she pulled it from the iron railing and placed it in his. She was self-conscious about the sweat on her palm when she found his hand dry, and warm, and holding hers with firm sureness.

"Don't look down," he ordered, still in that same gentle tone. "Just keep your eyes on me. Okay?"

She licked her lips, mouth not quite so dry now. "Okay."

"Okay," he repeated. Then, amazingly, Hatter started walking _backwards_. For a moment her heart skipped a beat. He wouldn't be able to see where he was going, he could step right off the edge! But his free hand skimmed along the wall and his step never erred; his deep, steady gaze not flickering away from hers for even an instant.

Not long after, he turned them down one of those alleys that ran between the buildings and blocked her view of the drop off. His expression instantly switched to a playful smile and he swung his free arm out grandly. Humming some unfamiliar tune, he stepped into her, lifting the hand he held, then slipped under her arm and spun her away again. The impromptu dance confused her and when she didn't join in, he gave up with a shrug, releasing her hand now that they were safely away from any open air ledges.

Their progress was slowed by collapsed buildings, various flotsam and jetsam, ad a number of places where shrubs and brush had overgrown between the edifices. She had the nagging suspicion he had changed their route of travel specifically so it would keep them off any catwalks. The consideration in that gesture was touching. She couldn't remember a time when someone, other than her mother, had taken such care in regards to her phobia. Of course, it could just be that he didn't want to deal with her freaking out over it and figured this was the lesser of two evils.

He had been keeping a couple yards ahead of her as they went. Hatter wasn't overly tall, but the man was all legs and his long stride far outmatched hers. Now, he stopped and waited for her to catch up. When Alice reached him, he took hold of her hand without a word and she knew they were heading back out into the open air. She would have told him she was fine now, thank you, but to be honest, she liked having some kind of lifeline to hold onto. Even if it was a conman from the era of disco she'd just met. She was even more grateful for his hold when she saw that this ledge was about half the width of any of the others she'd trekked along in the city.

This side of this building reminded her of a cheap motel, with matching green doors set into the wall at regular intervals. Hatter stopped at one, seemingly at random and knocked. A viewing slot slid open and he peered inside.

"I'm returning a library book. It's a work of Edwin and Morcar," he told whoever was behind the door. Oh boy, secret codes.

"How does the little crocodile improve his shining tail?" the doorman asked. Alice's lips formed a little smile. _Ooh! I know that one!_

"He pours water of the Nile on every golden scale," Hatter responded quickly, sounding a bit impatient. Alice was a bit impatient herself, wanting to get off the too narrow ledging. The slot slid shut again and she could hear several locks being thrown. Finally the door opened and Hatter pulled her inside. Into a… bus? It looked like a bus.

"Come on, be quick," the doorman ordered. He looked to be about seventy years old, with a long, thin face. He wore a brown coat and field service cap (the kind that resembled paper hats worn by old time fast food employees). The old man got behind the wheel - so, yeah, it was definitely a bus - and pulled a lever that closed the door again, locks automatically sliding into place once more.

"Hello, Duck," Hatter greeted him. He moved Alice around to a seat near the door, but before she could sit, Duck pressed something on the crazily modified dashboard and the bus dropped sharply. Hatter released her hand as she fell into the seat, catching the hand rails to keep himself steady. She looked up at him with sharp question, _what the Hell?_ and he gave her a reassuring little smile coupled with a quiet, "It's alright."

She wasn't worried about that, though the thing did shake considerably and was loud as a train, but she accepted the gesture. The descent lasted several minutes, obviously the best place for a secret Resistance hide out was far below the rest of the populace. Eventually, a low, warm light flooded the bus, casting Alice's shadow on the far side. She turned to look out the window behind her and saw what looked like the grand entrance to an old hotel or maybe an opera house; all done in gold, crimson, and ivory; velvet, brass, gilt and baroque embellishments. The bus stopped and she moved to stand, but Hatter's, "Wait." gave her pause. Without warning the bus dropped another couple feet and reverberated with a gunshot like _bang!_ Her guide chuckled and gave her a shrug, motioning for her to precede him out the door.

For a moment she thought how polite that was, but the thought was squashed under the much heavier one of "_gun!". _A woman about Duck's age stood just at the bottom of the bus's stairs pointing a sawed off, double-barrel shotgun directly at Alice's head. She tried to step back, but ended up pushing against Hatter, who was not moving. She looked back at him, fear and question in her eyes, and saw that Duck had a 9mm pistol pressed into the crook of the younger man's neck. Hatter did not look as terrified as she felt. Hell, he didn't look _scared_ at all - he looked irritated.

"Out," the woman ordered. Alice lifted her hands reflexively - not because the old lady had told her to, but because it was a natural response after years of movie watching. Someone points a gun at you, you reach for the sky. She carefully went down the steps without lowering her hand to the railing, worried with each step she would lose her balance and fall, startling the woman into blowing her head off. That would ruin Hatter's silk shirt, that's for sure.

"Why don't we just put these things away?" He coaxed the two gun wielding senior citizens. "Come on, Owl, you know me well enough."

"We have our orders," was Duck's reply. The old woman - Owl- motioned Alice back towards a small balcony overlooking the lower floor of the lobby and she went obediently. Hatter joined her, hands raised as well, and when he turned back to face their captors, she followed suit.

"Keep that right hand where we can see it," the lady said in a deep Scottish brogue. Hatter sighed, still irritated. He lifted his right hand higher, opening and closing his fingers.

"It's just flesh and blood," he told her.

"Right," Owl scoffed. Alice was struck and how odd it was to see a tiny old lady - wearing a floral print dress that belonged on a fifties house wife, hair pulled back with a ridiculously large bow on her head - waving a shotgun around. For a moment, Alice didn't know if she was also meant to keep her right hand where they could see it. But then, the woman said, "We've all seen what you can do with that sledgehammer."

Hatter huffed and Alice wondered what the Hell that was all about. "Did you like the box of comfits I brought you last week?" he asked of the pair. "The cured meats? And the cheese?"

The old man and woman shared a look and Duck answered, "They're all gone."

Hatter nodded, tsking through his teeth. "Well, if you don't treat me with a little respect," he paused for effect. "You won't get another crumb."

The two hesitated barely a moment before lowering their weapons contritely. "Sorry, Hatter." Owl hugged her gun to her chest like a bouquet. She turned, heading off down the side of the upper floor. "Everyone's a little jumpy."

He lowered his arms, laying a hand on the small of Alice's back and guiding her passed Duck to follow. "Everyone's _always_ a little jumpy," he commented. It took the girl a few steps to finally lower her own arms. Once she did, Hatter's hand slid away from her.

"Where are we?"

"The Great Library," he answered, his tone slightly hushed as if in deference, appropriate for a library. "There's five thousand years of history hidden here. Art, literature, law. Rescued by the Resistance when the Queen of Hearts seized power." But that was over a hundred and fifty years ago, wasn't it? "She'd like nothing more than to see this burnt to nothing'." Not the same Queen, surely. He motioned over the side of the carved ivory railing and Alice stopped, looking over the side. The shock of what she was seeing completely washed out any sense of vertigo. It was not like any library she had ever seen. Yes, there were books. Literally, mountains of them, piled all over like a landscape. And people, dozens of them camped out among the books.

"Who are they?" she asked, but thought she already knew. Hatter moved to stand beside her, leaning on the railing somberly.

"Refugees. Those who don't fit into the Queen's world. We give them shelter and try to feed them the best we can, but it _is_ dangerous. If the Queen ever found out, they wouldn't stand a chance."

"Why would she want to destroy all of this?" Even as she asked it, she knew totalitarian rulers didn't need a reason to burn the past. Nothing mattered but what they wanted, what they created, what they deemed to be true.

"Wisdom is her biggest threat. She keeps people obedient with violence, then coddles 'em with a quick fix. They drink their tea and laugh and smile and forget they live in a cage made of fear and decorated with lies."

Her image of Hatter up to this point was completely blown. So, his persona, his working in the Tea Shop was all just a cover for this.

"Come on, Hatter. Don't dawdle," Owl called nervously. "You know Dodo doesn't take kindly to being made to wait."

"And he already doesn't like you," Duck added. Hatter sighed, rolling his eyes. Standing straight again, he motioned Alice forward and the group made their way down the lobby.

They entered an office that was stacked with books and lined with ivy that grew up the walls and across the ceiling. A large painting of a medieval castle dominated one wall, a forest scene another. Duck waited at the door and Owl stood by an ivy-covered column a few feet from a large desk of rich, dark wood that was littered with more books. It was this desk that Alice and Hatter stood before, side by side like kids in the principal's office. And it was behind this desk that Dodo himself sat, shrouded in shadows. He was in his late forties at least, with short, dark, curly hair that had started to grey and a mustache and goatee to match. The long, black leather duster he wore did nothing to hide his slightly rotund figure and gave Alice the impression of a British military villain out of some war film.

When he spoke, his voice only reaffirmed that impression. "What do you want, Hatter?"

Hatter ignored the disdain in the older man's tone. "I've got an oyster here who managed to break out of the Scarab. She's looking to find her boyfriend, a Jack Chance."

"Chase," Alice corrected. She didn't want to make Hatter look bad in front of what was obviously a higher ranking member of the Resistance, but didn't have a choice. "His name is Jack Chase."

"She needs help," he went on. "I thought of you Dodo.

"Really?" Dodo asked, standing and coming out from dark and into the light cast by a couple sconces in the room. His voice was so heavy with derision towards Hatter, Alice was surprised it wasn't dripping from his lips. "And why would I want to help your oyster, when you know that bringing her here puts us all at risk?"

The young man at her side scoffed softly. "Oh, please. I've spent years smuggling more dangerous things than this down here." As much as she hated being talked about like she wasn't in the room and even more being referred to as "this", Alice kept her mouth shut, letting them have their pissing contest.

Dodo's thin lips formed a scornful smile as he stepped closer to the focus of his invective. "You know what rankles most about blood-sucking carpetbaggers like you, Hatter?" He paused as though the question was not rhetorical. "Your gall. While we risk our lives trying to bring freedom to ungrateful _leeches_ like you, you _swan_ about-" arms lifting, fingers rolling in a display of mocked carelessness "-living the good life."

"Stop your crowing," Hatter snapped. By the quiet anger Alice could hear in his voice, Dodo must have hit a nerve. "You know I'm on your side."

The older man just looked at him with contempt and went back to his desk. "I'm sure you say that to all your enemies."

This, apparently, was too much for Hatter. "I do what's necessary. I kiss what butts need kissin' so that your machine stays oiled," he protested, quietly fuming. Dodo opened his mouth to say something, something that would undoubtedly push Hatter into losing his temper altogether. The older man obviously wanted that to happen, probably to have an excuse for not helping them. Duck was right, he really didn't like Hatter. Alice interceded.

"Look, if he's not going to help me, I'll find someone else," she told Hatter, giving the impression she was ready to walk right out of the room. She had no where else to go that she knew of, but she was pretty sure the bluff would break up their hate party.

Dodo chuckled. "Headstrong, isn't she?" he asked Hatter, smiling condescendingly.

"Can you help me get Jack out of the casino?" Her question was more of a challenge.

Dodo did not rise to the occasion. "I don't see how."

"The Resistance has contacts inside the casino, right?" Hatter pointed out. The older man looked away evasively.

"No comment." Which, of course, meant yes.

"Use them to find her guy," Hatter told him. Then added, unexpectedly. "She can pay you." Alice was shocked he would lie flat out like that about something like this, but kept it out of her expression as best she could. "But I want my usual cut, upfront."

So, what, he was going to get Dodo to pay him an advance on something she was supposed to pay the Resistance in the future, knowing full well she had nothing to pay them with? So maybe the sleazy persona wasn't _all_ an act. Sure Dodo was an asshole, but the money - or whatever they used in Wonderland - wouldn't be _his_; it would be coming out of the Resistance's coffers.

The older man now looked intrigued by the prospect of payment. "Pay me? Pay me with what?" His use of "me" instead of "us" made Alice second guess her assumption that payment rendered to the Resistance would go to those people huddled amongst the books. It also shed a different glow on Dodo's hatred of Hatter and his "living the good life".

Hatter moved behind her and, now on her left, tugged the velvet sleeve of his coat she wore. "Show him the rock, Alice."

Her head snapped around to face him. "What?" She didn't _have _anything. He knew that.

"The ring on your finger." The ring on her finger, Jack's ring. Not a chance in Hell.

"No, I can't - that is off limits," she protested. Great, so Hatter had thought she could pay. He just hadn't told _her_. He turned to her now, taking his eyes off Dodo for the first time since they entered the room.

"It's all you have, Alice," he insisted, trying to convince her. She would not be convinced, however.

"No," she hissed firmly. If it had been her own ring, she would have given it up in a heartbeat. But it was Jack's. And it had something to do with why he was kidnapped by the white haired man. She had to hang onto it.

She was so focused on Hatter that the swish of leather barely registered before Dodo had grabbed her hand and lifted it for inspection. He stared at the ring and stared some more. When Alice tried to pull away, he looked up at her, eyes wide and bright with shock.

"It's not possible," he whispered hoarsely. His feverish expression disturbed her and she yanked her hand from his grasp, stepping back. "Where did you get it?" the man demanded.

"It's not for sale," she told him, earning herself his fury.

"Where did you get it?" he barked the question, stepping towards her. She backed off more, fear bubbling up in her chest. Duck and Owl both jumped, startled by the near shout.

Obviously shaken by the man's strange shift in behavior, Hatter stumbled over his next question. "Wh-what is it?"

Dodo snatch up her hand again in a vice-like grip, lifting it to show the younger man. "Your oyster is wearing the _Stone of Wonderland_." His voice had raised now, filled with some fire that was not all anger. Hatter looked at the ring, shaking his head.

"That's impossible," he protested weakly.

"I'm never wrong," Dodo countered, dropping her hand again and focusing on her face. Hatter, too, had turned to fully face her and, with booth men looming over her, Alice's bubbling fear turned into a violent boil. She stepped back and they advanced.

"Where did you get it, Alice?" Hatter demanded. She was too afraid to lie.

"Jack gave it to me."

"Jack?" Dodo snapped.

"Jack Chase, my boyfriend?" It was the first time she'd ever used those words together, despite how intimate and close their relationship was. How odd, she'd only said it like that because that was how Hatter had put it when telling Dodo of her plight earlier. "The one I need your help to find?"

Her voice was shaking almost as much as her hands as the two men kept coming at her. "Where did he get it?" Dodo continued to badger her.

"I don't know!" she insisted. That's not true, he had said it was a family heirloom, but she couldn't think with them bearing down on her like this.

"Give it to me!" Dodo shouted the command.

Alice shouted right back, her voice a trill of fear and panic. "No!"

Without hesitation, the man spun away, stalking back to his desk. "Take her out!" he ordered Owl as he passed the old woman. She immediately lifted her gun, aimed right at Alice's chest. The girl's heart stopped and maybe Owl wouldn't have to shoot her because she would die right there from the fear alone. Then Hatter slid in front of her, putting himself between her and the old woman's shaking shotgun. Alice instantly forgave him for being underhanded in their dealings, her heart in her throat now that he was in harm's way.

"Stop!" he told the lady, holding up a hand to stay her. "Just wait."

"You're in way over your head, Hatter," Dodo told the younger man. He picked up something from his desk.

"Just give me one second to talk to her, okay?"

That something turned out to be a .38 revolver. He cocked the hammer back and a wash of cold swept over the room. Owl's shaking ceased and Alice was certain Duck had stopped breathing altogether. Hatter's form stiffened in front of her and it became obvious that where he hadn't thought Owl would take a shot at him, there was no doubt when it came to Dodo.

"It controls the Looking Glass," the older man said as though it were all the justification he needed. "You know that."

Hatter looked to Owl and Duck and found them to be of no help, both frozen where they stood. He tried to diffuse the situation again. "Calm down," he'd forced his voice to a calmer, more reasonable tone. "Put the gun away. I'm sure we can all get what we want here."

The way Dodo's eyes had glazed over told Alice that nothing Hatter said would be able to reach the man. The revolver turned towards her and again Hatter put himself between her and the threat, stepping back when the other man advanced. His hand was extended back to herd the girl as he moved, keeping her behind him and safe.

"We've been waiting for years for a break like this and now it _falls into our laps_!" Dodo practically hissed.

"Stop waving that thing around. You're scaring everyone," Hatter insisted, raising his voice as if he were trying to be heard over whatever was now guiding Dodo.

"If we can return the oysters back to their world, maybe we can save ours." He didn't even seem to hear the younger man at this point. Hatter let his hand drop from Alice and stepped slowly to the side. For a horrible instant, she thought he might have been won over, but Dodo moved with him as if pulled by an invisible string.

"Just put the gun _down_!" the younger man commanded, voice growing ever louder and more desperate.

"Think about it. The Queen reduced to mopping floors!" Dodo rasped. His eyes were impossible wide now, manic and wild. "It'll be just like the old days. Justice, reason, and the rule of law!"

"Stop this!" Hatter shouted. Now that he was no longer in front of Alice, he made his move, grabbing the barrel of Dodo's revolver and trying to pull it away. Alice shrieked as the gun went off, point blank at Hatter's chest. The impact blew him backwards, over a pile of books in the corner. It was something out of a movie, real gunshots don't do that. But, that was in her world and this was Wonderland. She could only imagine what kind of damage a gun like that could do to her body.

"You've shot Hatter!" Owl cried in shock, clutching her gun to her chest, eyes round as saucers. Duck was frozen in place, staring at the place where Hatter was sprawled.

The shot had apparently broken whatever spell Dodo had been under, but he was completely unaffected by what he'd done. "We don't need him anymore," he told the others. "The ring is our ticket out of here."

"Bastard!" Alice shouted. He'd killed a man, killed Hatter, over a ring. A _ring_! Fury and fear pushed her to action and she lunged. His focus was on the fallen Tea Shop owner, so she had the element of surprise. She caught his arm and brought it down as her knee came up, the impact jarring the gun from his hand. Her elbow went up and back, aiming for his nose, but instead hit his chin. Dodo reeled back, but only for a moment. As Alice turned towards him, her left hand flat for a palm strike, he caught the neck of her borrowed coat and yanked her back and down. He dropped to his knees, bringing her hard to the floor and curling large hands around her throat with crushing force, intent on strangling the life out of her.

She was maneuvering her legs under her attacker's chest to kick him back when another shot rang out. Dodo jumped back and away from her, leaving Alice to gasp for air. It wasn't a shotgun, so it had to be Duck, but Alice was greeted with yet another shock as she struggled to sit up. Hatter was fighting his way back to his feet, a small, silver semiautomatic pistol in his grasp. The gun was in his right hand, his left was pressed against his upper chest. The wound was higher than Alice had thought, high enough to miss any important organs, thank God.

"Leave her alone," he ordered, moving to stand beside her. "Or, believe me, the next one will be aimed at your head!" He had no free hands, so she got herself up off the ground. Dodo rose up on his knees, then to his feet.

"Hatter," Alice found herself saying with nothing to follow his name. She almost laid a hand on his arm, but didn't dare. He sidestepped, nudging her towards the door.

"Go. Go," he commanded and she obeyed, backing towards the open doorway. Duck had dropped his pistol and stood, mouth agape in shock and terror. Owl had pointed her gun at Hatter once more but it was shaking so hard, she was more likely to blow a hole in the ceiling than the man.

"Look, Hatter, this is a game changer. I'll give you three times your price," Dodo tried to coax, as though he hadn't just tried to kill the younger man. As Hatter backed Alice towards the door, the crazed man advanced. When that didn't make them stop retreating, Dodo tried again. "Five. Ten. You name it!"

Hatter stepped forward, pushing the gun directly into the other man's face. "_Back off!"_ Owl had had enough. She clutched the gun to her chest again and scurried away, hiding down behind the desk.

Dodo snarled. "If you let her leave with the ring, I'll have every member of the Resistance hunting you down."

"Alice, get to the bus," her protector ordered.

"But-"

"_Now!_" She took off down the lobby. She did not want to leave him there, had no idea where to go or what to do once she got out of the building again, but had to have faith that he knew what he was doing.

Halfway to her escape, Alice heard someone coming up behind her. Those footfalls were too heavy to be Hatter's. She looked back and, sure enough, Dodo was bearing down on her like a Mack truck. What had happened to Hatter? She pushed herself as hard as she could, but her fall and swim and the cold had sapped most of her strength and Alice knew it was very possible he would catch her before she even reached the bus.

She heard Dodo fall, which was a stroke of luck. Maybe it would give her the seconds she needed. In the bus, she slid behind the wheel and found about a million buttons and switches and levers. How the Hell was she supposed to make it work? Since she was fucked anyway, she just started trying everything. She managed to turn the lights in the bus off and on - two different buttons -, start the wipers, and turn on the radio. Over the tinny, calliope music that filled the vehicle, she heard a shout that wasn't Dodo.

"Hit the blue button!"

She looked up in time to see Hatter being shoved against the wall.

"Hatter!"

"Hurry up, Alice!" he shouted, shoving Dodo off of him. "Push the blue button!" He pinned the bigger man against a carved column and drew his fist back. Dodo ducked and the punch missed and Hatter's hand struck the marble column instead. Instead of breaking his hand, his hand broke the column. Even from where she was, Alice could see the cracks snake up the pillar, bits of stone falling to the carpet.

"_Holy shit_," she breathed, eyes wide. Unfortunately, as the damage was done to the building and not his opponent, Hatter lost his advantage. Dodo gripped his shoulders and lifted a knee to the younger man's gut, then another to his head that sent the ridiculous hat flying off. Knowing she was still the main target, Alice almost did as he said and escaped. But when the older man kneeled over Hatter and, right hand safely immobilized, started punching him in the face, she couldn't do it.

If he was using his fists, then Dodo didn't have his gun. That meant with the two of them against him, they had the advantage. She bolted from the cab, throwing a knee into the bastard's face when he looked up. She felt his nose crack against her knee cap. Good. As he reeled back, her too large boot shot out, striking him full force in the chest and knocking him back and off the other man. As Dodo, rolled to his stomach, Alice crouched, putting her hands under Hatter's arms and pulling him upright. He got his feet under him and stood, taking in the sight of Dodo on hands and knees and bleeding profusely.

"How did you do that?" he asked, sounding bewildered. She didn't answer, dragging him to the bus. Inside, he fell to the floor, half propped up against the seat she had been sitting in on the ride down. Alice slapped the blue button and the vehicle jerked to life, rattling up towards the entrance again. Just under the loud clanking of the machine, she could hear Dodo's roar of outrage.

The girl dropped to her knees, straddling Hatter's legs. He was panting heavily and grunting in pain, skin shining with sweat. She struggled with his tie before giving up on it and just shoving the thing up out of her way.

"How bad is it?" She didn't want to know anymore than she wanted to _see_ the bullet wound, but she needed to find out how serious the injury was. He flinched away from her, head arched back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut. _Oh God, oh God, oh…_ _what?_ She'd pulled his shirt open, the buttons sliding obediently through their eyelets, and found not blood and gore, but an expanse of black fabric. Barely an inch from the edge of the vest, she saw the metallic gleam of the bullet stuck in the material - Kevlar. "Body armor?"

Relief flooded Alice, making her knees so weak she couldn't get up off him if she tried. She touched the bullet, as if to prove to herself it was really there. Lifting the edge of the vest carefully, she saw a dark bruise spreading across his creamy skin. She looked to his face to find him peeking at her out of one eye. "You're not shot?"

"Not exactly." He smiled up at her. After everything he had just put her through, the son of a bitch had the balls to smile at her!

"You _asshole_!" the girl half shouted, incensed. She moved to get up, but her tired, wobbly legs were not cooperating. "What were you thinking?"

"Hey, I was trying to help you," he protested.

"Well, you suck at helping," she snapped at him with a scowl. "Helping doesn't involve trying to sell people's stuff out from under them."

"Well, I didn't know it was the Stone of Wonderland, did I?" _That_ was his defense?

"If you had told me what you were planning from the start, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"If I had, you wouldn't have come." That much was true. Even though the ring wasn't hers to give, if it hadn't been tied to Jack's being taken by the White Rabbit, she might have used it to barter help in his rescue. But it was, so that was out of the question from the start.

"And we'd have been better for it!" she pointed out. "He tried to kill me!"

Hatter scoffed, pulling his shirt aside as though she couldn't already see. "Yeah, well, he actually shot me!"

He had. Hatter had stepped in front of a bullet. To protect her. That realization jolted Alice into silence. He saw the change in her face and his own expression softened. Her voice was quiet when she asked, "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He grunted, squirming a bit to work himself more upright, sitting on the floor with his back against the seat, Alice sitting lightly on his legs. "I'm fine. Are you okay?"

Now, it was her turn to nod, though nodding hurt, as her neck was a little tender from Dodo's strangulation attempt. Hatter seemed to read her mind, chocolate eyes flicking down to her throat and darkening as they had back at the tea shop. His hands came up, fingers lightly brushing against her skin. "It's bruising," he informed her, a soft undercurrent of anger in his voice. "I'm sorry, Alice."

"I'll live," she assured him, gently pulling his hands away from her neck. Not that his touch had made her feel uncomfortable, but.. Well, he just shouldn't be touching her like that. She barely knew him. His gaze lifted, but not to her eyes, to her mouth.

"How did that happen?" She didn't need him to clarify, it was obvious what he meant.

"When Jack was kidnapped. The man with the white hair had a cane-" The girl had intended to say more, about how the top had popped off and hit her, but his eyes snapped up to hers and were almost black with fury. It was too intense for her to handle, so she quickly changed the subject. "Tell me about the Stone of Wonderland. What is it? Why does Dodo want it so bad?"

It took the man a moment to let go of the previous topic, but he finally spoke. "It's a big deal." He relaxed against the seat a bit more and Alice could almost feel the tension draining out of him. "It was mined by the ancient knights to power the Looking Glass - the door that connects your world to ours."

"Ancient knights?"

"They were wiped out long ago by the queen," he went on. "She took the Looking Glass and the Stone. Now she uses them to steal people from your world."

"Why?"

"The Tea Shop." When Alice just looked at him blankly, Hatter explained. "You remember what I said about a quick fix? In the casino, the Queen's scientists extract the emotions from oysters. They bottle 'em and sell 'em; instant gratification for the masses. Keeps everyone in line."

"How do you extract an emotion?"

Hatter chuckled, incredulously. "I don't know. I'm not a scientist."

Oh, right. Duh. "So, they just keep them there, stealing their emotions? What, until they die?" His silence was her answer. "I have to get Jack out of there."

"Speaking of which, how did Jack get ahold of the Stone, anyway?"

Alice blinked. He'd told her it was a family heirloom, but that was obviously not true if it was the Stone of Wonderland. She straightened her spine. "I don't know." It was true, she didn't know where he'd gotten it, only that he hadn't told her the truth about such and she wasn't about to tell Hatter her lover had lied to her. Again, she barely knew him.

And yet, here she was, sitting on his legs. Crap. She planted a hand on the seat beside his shoulder, using it to aide her in rising. Her legs felt like rubber, so she immediately plopped herself down in the seat across from him. His eyes flickered over her bare knees and she blushed, scooting down the bench so she wasn't directly in front of him anymore.

So, Jack's ring was the Stone of Wonderland. That explained why the White Rabbit had taken him, why Mr. Sinister had been so eager to get it. How _had_ Jack gotten it? Apparently, it wasn't common knowledge that the ring was no longer in the Queen's possession. Of course, a powerful monarch would not want the commoners to know she had lost the key to their "quick fix". That thought lead to another and another and then her eyes snapped back to Hatter as the bus came to a stop at the top of the shaft.

"If the Queen controls the Looking Glass and the Looking Glass is the only way back to my world, how was the Resistance supposed to get me and Jack home?" She asked him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. He had just pulled himself up off the floor and was starting to button his shirt closed again. He paused, but didn't answer. She saw his shoulders hunch slightly as he kept his gaze averted, focusing on the buttons.

"You bastard." He looked up, about to defend himself when she yanked the lever to open the door and stormed down the steps.

"Oi!" Hatter hurried after her. Almost oblivious to the sheer drop, Alice moved angrily down the catwalk and back between the buildings, having no idea where she was going, only that it was away from him. "Alice!"

"You lied to me!" she shouted at him over her shoulder, not even looking back. "You knew there was no way the Resistance could get me home. You were going to use me as a pay day and then leave me there!"

"Wait, alright?" he beseeched her, but Alice was having none of it. She went through a breezeway and turned left to find an oak tree at least three feet wide at the trunk beyond which was nothingness. She tripped over one of the thick roots at the base of the tree and nearly fell.

"Whoa!" the girl grabbed onto the trunk for support and pulled her eyes back from the edge.

"Where do you think you're going?" Hatter asked of her as she edged her way around the trunk towards the open walkway beside it.

"I don't know. Anywhere but here." Yes, it sounded petulant and childish, but she was pissed, dammit. And in need of new allies.

"There are no 'anywhere's in this town," he protested, coming around the tree after her. "If someone sees you-"

"This is a nightmare!" shouted at the world in general, moving further away from him. "This place." She slapped both hands against the tree as if it were the plant's fault. "You people! God damn it!" She huffed, slumping back against the bark, frustrated and lost.

"Listen, calm down. I'm gonna try and get you home, okay?"

Alice glared at him in angry disbelief. "Oh, really?" She started around the tree again, making this her second time around in a circle.

"Yes, really," Hatter moved to follow her, but found it easier to just go the opposite way and cut her off. "I could-" She turned and went the other way and again he moved to cut her off. "Could you just keep still?"

Glare still in place, Alice's voice dripped contempt. "And what's in it for you? Let me guess, you want your usual cut, upfront?"

His lips pursed in irritation that she'd thrown his own words back at him so poignantly. "I don't blame you for being angry," he insisted. "I acted… impetuously."

He really had the nerve to try and minimize what he'd pulled? Dodo was right, he had a lot of gall. She corrected him sharply. "No, selfishly. You acted _selfishly_."

"Whatever word you want to use," he conceded. "Let me make it up to you." Unmoved, the girl started to turn away again, but he caught her arm. "Alice, this is a dangerous place. You're gonna need help. It's just plain bad luck I'm the only choice you've got."

Damn him. Alice hated it when people acted like assholes and then expected you to listen to them two minutes later. She hated it even more when they were right. She glowered at the man before her, knowing she had no other option than to accept his offer.

"Don't lie to me again," she ordered, as serious as she had ever been in her life. He nodded, making a little X over his heart with one finger.

"Promise." He was obviously trying to look and sound sincere, but it did nothing to help her trust him.

"So, now what, oh fearless leader?" she snarked, crossing her arms.

"First, we go back to the Tea Shop, regroup, and plan our next move," he told her. Reasonable enough. Fine. She motioned him on and, when she started back the way they had come, followed after him. She didn't trust Hatter as far as she could throw him, at this point, but he was all she had to pin her hopes to.

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**So, what do you think? No, seriously, what do you think? When you guys don't review, I get paranoid that no one's reading. -puppy eyes-**


	6. And the Hits Just Keep on Comin'

**Thanks for the feedback, guys. I was starting to get worried. Here's Chapter 6 and yay! Charlie! I adore Charlie. I want one of my own to sleep at the foot of my bed.**

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Progress back to the Tea Shop was slower than it had been leaving, as Alice was even more tired and sore than she had been before the run in with Dodo. Hatter was taking the most direct route, which should have made the trip shorter. Unfortunately, he had not offered Alice his hand again and she refused to ask for it, so every time they walked along a ledge, their progress slowed to a crawl as she pressed against whatever building and crept overcautiously along. She knew he'd said they would figure out a plan when they got back to the Tea Shop, but she needed something to distract her from her fear.

"Any ideas on what we're going to do?" she asked Hatter.

"The Looking Glass is the only way to get you home and it _is_ here in the city, but it's the most heavily guarded piece of kit in Wonderland," he broke it down for her.

"What about Jack? How do we get him out of the casino?"

"We don't."

"What?" That was not an option. Hatter stopped, turning back to her and Alice envied him his ease on the narrow walkway.

"Have you not been paying attention?"

"I can't just leave him here. It's my fault he was kidnapped," she insisted. If she'd managed to escape from the Scarab, there had to be other holes in the Queen's system. They just had to exploit them.

"Why is it your fault?" His eyes fell to her split lip, obviously thinking along the lines that if she'd been able to stop the White Rabbit, Jack would be safe. Which was true, but not what she'd meant.

"He was trying to-" Propose. That's what he was trying to do. But she wouldn't tell Hatter about all that. "-surprise me or something. Somehow he got ahold of this ring, because of me, and now he's in a world of trouble and I'm the only one who can get him out of it."

Hatter scoffed, brows furrowing incredulously. "How'd you figure that?"

It wasn't ego or delusion, it was logic. "I have the ring. They want the ring. I can use it to negotiate his release." Simple enough. The man shook his head in vehement denial.

"No. No, you can't negotiate with the Queen," he insisted. "She's crazy. You have to cut your losses. You get the Hell out of here while you still can."

"I already told you, I can't leave Jack." Was the man so used to looking out for number one, he didn't understand any longer what it meant to put someone else before yourself?

"Because he's your boyfriend and you love him?" Hatter inquired, making it sound so trivial.

"Of course I care about him," Alice responded, barely stuttering over the C. They'd only been together two months. Saying you love someone is a big step. Huge. His brows lifted slightly.

"Oh, you _care_ about him. Trust me, I know a thing or two about that," he told her, leaning in close for emphasis. "And, after much chocolate and cream cake, 'I care' turns into 'what was his name again?'."

Alice scowled. Who was he to judge what she felt? "How much cream cake does it take to do that with 'I let him die to save my own ass'?"

She could see the muscle in the side of his jaw twitch, could practically hear the man's teeth grinding. He turned away from her without an answer and started walking again. As they neared the end of the building, a shout caught their attention. Hatter stopped, holding his hand back to tell Alice to stay still. He crept forward and peered around the corner. After a moment, he waved her up and she moved to stand behind him.

"Stay close," he ordered quietly, then started down the walkway that led to the Tea Shop. He brought them to a halt again, at the red phone booth before the bridge. Alice's eyes rounded as she saw the condition of his business. The front door hung half off its hinges and several of the windows were broken out. The red electronic crawl flickered, the messaged changed to a single, baleful word: Closed. On the porch area stood several men. Some of them looked like customers of Hatter's, but the rest wore black suits and sunglasses like the ones who had taken Jack. All but two. One wore a long black robe and strange tri-lobed hat. He was talking to Ratty. Hatter hissed through his teeth.

"You work with rats long enough and you turn into one, eh?" he growled angrily. Alice leaned up to whisper.

"What _is_ that?" By "that", she meant the last man. It had the body of a man, anyway, but it's head was solid, white, and looked like a rabbit's; long ears and all.

"Nothing I've ever seen before," Hatter shrugged. He didn't seem too disturbed by it, but Alice supposed you got used to seeing crazy things when you live in Wonderland.

"You seen her?" The rabbit-headed man demanded sharply of the customer he was holding by the lapels of his jacket. His accent seemed out of place in Wonderland, heavy-throated and thickly nasal, like he'd stepped straight out of Goodfellas. Hatter stiffened.

"Wait," he leaned forward slightly as if doing so would get him a better look at the strange being. "No, it can't be."

"What?" the girl hissed. Before he could answer, Rabbit-head, displeased with the answers he was getting, punched the man he held in the stomach. Instead of grunting or gasping, as one would expect, the man cried out in agony. As his attacker pulled his hand back, it was followed by a splash of bright red that stained his slacks and the graying boards of Hatter's Tea Shop porch. Alice's mouth dropped open in utter, paralyzing shock. She could not fathom what was happening right in front of her.

Rabbit wiped the knife on the man's shoulder and put it away. His head tilted to the side curiously as his victim blubbered and stumbled back against the railing, trying to stop the bleeding. He turned, trying to run away, but his attacker followed.

"Get outta here," Rabbit growled in disgust and gave the man a hard shove, sending him down the porch stairs and off the side of the bridge entirely. His scream echoed against the buildings, fading quickly as he plummeted. Alice's fingers gripped Hatter's arm, nails digging into the leather of his jacket. A horrified cry caught in her throat as it closed off, coming out only as a sickly gurgle. She released him when her knees gave out and she dropped to the ground. Her hands pressed against the glass of the phone booth, as the world spun around her, black spots dancing before her eyes, threatening to take over her vision entirely. When strong hands gripped her arms and pulled, she resisted, as if shaking her head and sobbing "no" would change anything about the last minute and a half.

"Come on, Alice. Get up!" Hatter ordered hoarsely. "Get _up_!"

Somehow, her legs obeyed where her mind would not and she found herself running behind Hatter as he dashed between buildings, their hands locked together. The blood rushing through her veins carried a new surge of adrenaline with it and, as her mind cleared, she became aware of shouting behind her. Rabbit and his cohorts must have spotted them and given chase. Hatter pulled her into a building that creaked and groaned threateningly, then out of it again through a gaping hole in the wall. They were now on the edge of the canal, only a few hundred yards from where it opened out unto the vast lake she'd fallen into not two hours ago. The sun shone brighter here, not blocked by the canopy of a concrete and glass forest.

"This way. It's my smuggling boat," he explained in a shout over his shoulder, heading them down a grassy hill to the bank. There was a small dock and, indeed, a boat that looked like it should belong to Hatter - like something out of Italy circa 1975. He hopped into it, turning back and taking her other hand to help her down into the craft, releasing her with the command, "Untie that line."

Alice dropped to her knees between the wood cross supports of the vessel, frantic fingers making quick work of the anchor line despite her harried state of mind. She heard Hatter pull the engine cord, the outboard motor sputtering strongly, but not starting.

"Hang on, there's a knack to this," he commented and pulled the line again, garnering the same result. "Which apparently, I've never learned." He slapped the cover back into place and scrambled to the bow of the boat, taking the seat behind the wheel and trying the key. "Come on, come on!"

Alice stood, opening the engine panel herself. She saw a red primer bulb and pumped it a couple times, then pulled the cord as hard as she could. The engine gurgled and roared to life.

"Yes!" Hatter threw the throttle all the way forward, knocking her off her feet and to her knees on the hard bottom of the boat. She looked back and could see Rabbit and his posse standing on the bank, impotently watching their quarry escape. "Lord, what would I do without you?"

She turned at the waist, finding Hatter facing her, arm across the back of his seat and - again - with a smile inappropriate to the situation. She turned away from him, her stomach roiling, and bent over the side of the boat. There was nothing left in her to be expelled, but that didn't stop her body from trying. Hatter reached back as she convulsed futilely, but, as he couldn't let go of the wheel, his fingers were barely able to brush against her shoulder.

"Hey," he called over the rush of wind and water and the constant drone of the engine. "You're alright. Alice?"

Embarrassed by her dry heaves, Alice pushed his hand away. She leaned her face over the rushing water, letting the cold spray wash over her face and neck. This was too much. More than too much. She moved only when the pain of kneeling on the wooden bottom of the boat as it bounced across the lake got to be too much, finally making her way to the bow and taking the seat beside Hatter. He slowed their speed so the roar of the engine wouldn't drown out his voice.

"Are you okay?" If she hadn't been so completely drained, mentally and emotionally, she'd have smacked him.

"He killed that man," she said, hoarsely. Hatter's hand covered hers and squeezed, drawing her gaze to his. Leaning over the side of the vessel, Alice had been sure that smile meant he was unaffected by the murder they'd just witnessed, but looking into his dark eyes now, she knew that was untrue. There was sorrow there and pain, both heavy burdens.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. What a stupid thing to say. It was ridiculous! It wasn't Hatter's fault the Rabbit had killed the poor man. There was nothing he could have done to stop it, even if he'd had time to try. It was what you said when you had nothing to say at all.

But, inconceivably, it actually helped. So, he didn't have the words to make it all better. The fact that he tried was a comfort to the girl. She would not have been ale to articulate the terror and horror she was feeling, anyway. Nor the strangely sharp sense of isolation. It were as though Rabbit's blade had cut her off from the rest of the world as surely as it had cut that man's life short. Amazingly, without perfectly chosen words, Hatter let her know that she was not alone. He was right there with her. Alice wanted to thank him, but didn't know how, so the girl just nodded silently. He seemed to understand and said nothing more, turning his gaze back to the lake, his hand keeping firm hold on hers until she made the choice to pull away.

Jack. At some point in the day, the need to rescue Jack had turned from a mission she must fulfill to a way to keep her sanity. As long as she had that to focus on, she could push everything else down deep inside; bottle it up like Hatter's tea and pretend it didn't matter. Not the healthiest approach, maybe, but it worked in the short run.

"How do I get to the casino?"

Hatter looked at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. "You're kiddin'."

"I still have to-"

"Save Jack, I know," he shook his head in disgust. "I already told you, you can't negotiate with the Queen." He paused, brows furrowing as a thought came to him. "But the White Rabbit is a different kettle of onions," he reasoned out loud. "Perhaps they'll do a deal. It's a long shot, but it's the only one we've got to get us through the Looking Glass."

Alice blinked, sure she'd heard him wrong or he'd misspoken. "Us?"

For a moment, he remained silent, eyes on the water before them. When he spoke, his tone was uncharacteristically subdued. "I don't know if you noticed, Alice, but my shop was ransacked. I'm homeless." She had been so preoccupied with her own inner turmoil, she had completely overlooked the fact that by stepping into Hatter's life, Alice had brought the whole thing crashing down around his ears. Her heart ached with guilt and grief for him. "I'm a target, not only for the Suits, but the Resistance as well and there's only so many places in Wonderland I can hide. The way I see it, I've only got one option."

"What is it?" Her voice cracked, eyes burning with guilty tears she instinctively held back.

"Go back with you," he said, fast like pulling off a band-aid. "To your world." He looked at her, obviously wanting to gauge her reaction. The girl quickly looked away, sniffing and wiping at her nose like she was trying not to sneeze.

"So, you think I'll just let you sleep on my couch?" she asked with forced levity. He seemed to be a fan of flippancy that was apropos of nothing and either she joked now or she would burst into tears.

Hatter didn't answer right away and Alice worried she had misread him horribly. But then he chuckled and she could let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Couch? I should get your bed and _you _sleep on the couch." If he asked it, she'd do that and more. How do you make up for destroying someone's life? A dull rumbling behind them was quickly growing into a far off roar and both turned to see what they already knew it was: a Scarab bearing down on them.

"Before we do anything, we have to shake that royal flush," the man stated, shoving the throttle forward again and pushing the engine so hard the bow lifted at least a foot out of the water. What good that did, Alice didn't know. There was no way his speed boat could outrun what amounted to a jet. He turned sharply, heading for the shore. Here the bank was thickly lined with trees, a dense forest stretching away for miles and miles.

He slowed the boat and let it bump to a stop against the ground. Quickly shutting off the engine, he stood and jumped to shore, holding out his hand for Alice to toss him the anchor line. He pulled the boat right up against the bank and tied it off. "Come on." She took the hands he offered, letting him help her off the craft and onto solid ground. When the man turned to head into the woods straight way, she caught his arm.

"Shouldn't we hide it or something?"

Hatter shook his head. "I want them to find it."

Alice blinked in surprise. "What? Why?"

He took her elbow, helping her up the steep embankment. "If that weirdo leading the posse is who I think it is, then he's got one Hell of a nose for blood." A distant animal cry made him pause and her heart skip a beat. "And this is the place to find it."

"What was that?" It sounded like a fucking dinosaur. Please, God, don't let there be dinosaurs in Wonderland. Hatter pulled her close to his side.

"There's things in these woods that defy imagination," he told her ominously. Dinosaurs would have been an improvement, then. "Come on. We haven't got much time." He kept his hold on her, starting off into the forest and she followed obediently.

"Tell me what's going on, Hatter," Alice demanded, eyes wide and watchful. It wasn't as though she'd never been in the woods. Her parents (when she'd had two, and then her mother alone later) had rented a tiny cabin on a small lake in upstate New York for two weeks every summer for as long as she could remember. She'd explored the surrounding area thoroughly, but thatwas nothing like the forest she found herself in now. There weren't even bears in those woods, let alone things that defied imagination.

"Alice, we can't shake the posse and we can't fight them, either." No, they couldn't. Even if she'd been in top shape and not battered, bruised and exhausted, Alice wouldn't have been able to take on six men and a killer Rabbit. "So, there's only one thing left to try."

He said it as though she should know what he meant, but she hadn't a clue. If they weren't running off in the woods to hide, then what were they doing? "What one thing?"

"Lead them into a trap." Okay, she supposed that made sense. But what kind of trap could they set with just the two of them and very little time? Hatter was looking around, listening, and Alice instinctively followed suit - though she had no idea what he was looking or listening for. "Keep your breathing shallow."

"What?" A loud trumpeting roar rang out through the trees and stopped her in her tracks. Hatter had stopped, too, and was holding his breath. "Hatter?"

He let go of her arm and motioned her away. "Find a tree you can climb."

"Do what?" she demanded incredulously, voice tight with fear, clueless as to what was going on. As if she could find a tree to climb anyway, none of them had branches any lower than twenty feet up. He looked down at her.

"The trap we talked about? This is it," he explained quickly. "I'm the bait. Go." He started off towards the roar determinedly. Rather than following his orders, Alice hurried after him.

"What do you mean you're the bait?" she demanded, catching his arm.

"Listen, I'm gonna lead the Jabberwock back to the posse-"

"You're _what?_" she squeaked. She'd read Lewis Carroll in school and in her mind she heard the words: The jaws that bite, the claws that catch.

"Alice, less of the questions. Please, just go," he implored, turning her under his hands and giving her a little push to get her moving. Alice was having none of it and was right back beside him, hands gripping his jacket.

"Are you out of your mind?!" she hissed. "You can't use yourself as bait for a monster!"

He tried to pull her hands free again. "Alice, I know what I-"

Another roar cut him off, so close Alice felt it shake the air around her. The ground shook, too, with heavy thudding footfalls as the beast approached. They both came to the same horrifying realization at the same time - that the sounds were not coming from in front of them, but behind -and turned in unison. The Jabberwock looked just as it had in the illustration her child's eye had seen years ago, minus the vest. Dragon-like, with scaly hide and wings; long limbs that ended in hands with long fingers that, in turn, ended with seven inch long, razor claws. A bulbous head with chameleon eyes and giant buck teeth swung this way and that on a too long, serpentine neck, then stopped, homing in on the two stupid humans standing in his path.

"Run," Hatter told her and she obeyed without hesitation, shooting off into the trees as fast as her short legs would carry her. It wasn't a good situation to start off with and things quickly went from bad to worse. Instead of following Hatter back to the posse, the Jabberwock took off after her - probably some animal instinct that told it she was easier prey. It was right, too. Hatter's boots, far too big for her feet, were ungainly and threw off her gait. Plus, her body had been pushed harder and abused more in the last few hours than ever before in her life. Panic erupted into full bloom in her chest as Alice realized the creature was gaining and her legs were going to give out any minute. It would have caught her already, but the beast was even more graceless than she was in her current state and actually tripped and fell once, letting her regain a few precious yards' lead.

"Alice!" She heard Hatter's shout behind her, behind the Jabberwock. She wanted to tell him to go and save himself, but couldn't get enough air to form the words. When her boot caught on a small mound of dirt and underbrush, she went sprawling with a shriek. She could feel the thing's breath wash across her back, even through the velvet coat and knew she was dead. Still, the girl tried to scramble away. A loud clack of teeth nearly broke her ear drums, but, she realized, the monster had not bitten into her. Flipping into her back, Alice found herself face to face with the Jabberwock, which, in addition to scary and lumbering, was also stupid and had wedged itself between two tree trunks instead of going around them. It roared and snapped, back legs digging deep furrows in the ground as it tried to push through and reach its meal. The girl tried to squirm away but had fallen into a dip in the forest floor, probably where some animal had dug in to nap or some such thing, and raising herself over the edge would put her in range of the gnashing jaws.

"Alice!" Hatter slid through the dead leaves as he tried to stop, the Jabberwock snapping at him and making him rear back sharply. Before Alice could warn him away, the man had drawn his hand back and thrown a punch at the monster. It actually fell to the ground for a moment, head swinging about wildly as it brayed like a donkey from shock and pain.

Hatter pulled the girl to her feet and away from the beast. She stumbled twice and nearly fell, slowing them down greatly, but he just urged her on. Suddenly, the ground dropped away under her feet and Alice fell with a scream, landing hard on cold, unforgiving ground. The impact knocked the air from her lungs and she struggled to catch her breath. Looking around her dazedly, she found herself awkwardly positioned between a few saplings. No, not saplings, just sticks thrust into the ground. Her eyes rounded as she took in the sharpened tips. If she'd fallen slightly to the left or right, she'd have been impaled!

"Ow," came a grunted complaint from beside her.

"Hatter!" She tried to sit up.

"Stay still!" he ordered. Alice dropped back down, eyes wide as the Jabberwock's head snaked over the edge of the pit. It growled menacingly and lunged, trying to take a bite out of her. Instead, it got a stab in the gums for it's trouble and brayed again, purple blood spattering onto the girl's bare legs from the wound. The monster drew back, apparently having had enough of the troublesome duo, and stalked away with a final angry roar.

Alice rolled to her side, trying to squirm around the punji sticks that separated them, scared Hatter might not have been so lucky as her in avoiding getting skewered. "Are you okay?" she managed to say, her voice shaking badly.

"Define 'okay'," he snarked, sitting up with a grunt. Relief washed through her, he wasn't speared.

"Vermin!" someone yelled from above. Both Alice and Hatter's heads snapped up. "Saboteurs!" Alice decided she must have cracked her skull in the fall, because there was no way an eighty year old man in a full suit of armor was standing at the top of that pit, yelling insults at them. "Anarchists! I was this close to catching him!" the hallucination went on, holding up his hands a few inches apart for illustration. He glanced at them and readjusted the distance. "_This_ close." He dropped his hands again and glared down at the two of them. Alice gripped one of the wooden spikes, struggling to her feet.

"Are _you_ okay?" her companion asked, doing the same. She nodded, but felt far from okay.

"Degenerate bagheads!" came another shout from above.

"You could be helping us out of here instead of bleating like an old goat," Hatter sniped up at the man, redonning his hat with a flourish. Okay, so if Hatter saw him, too, then he must be real. The knight huffed through his lips like an irritated Saint Bernard and disappeared. Hatter turned his attention back to Alice, maneuvering closer. "You sure?"

She nodded again. The wetness on her legs was starting to cool into a sticky mess. Ugh. A rope fell into the pit from above. So, thankfully, the man had taken Hatter's suggestion. Alice took one look at it and knew she wouldn't be able to climb out. Hatter knew it, too, apparently.

"I'll go first. When I'm out, tie the rope around your…" he motioned at her enigmatically and when Alice's perplexed expression remained in place, he gave in. "Under your bum, okay?"

The fact that he'd been reluctant to say "bum" to her was incredibly funny and she actually felt like laughing. She was too tired and sore to _do_ it, but she felt like it, which was just as good. She touched her index finger to thumb, other fingers standing straight in the universal symbol for "okay".

As she tied herself off, Alice heard the two arguing. The only thing she could make out clearly was Hatter's, "Shut up and help me." She tried the best she could to aide in her ascent, feeling weak and foolish for not being able to do it on her own. Safely out of the pit, she untied the rope and let it fall. Evidently unsatisfied by her telling him twice that she was unhurt, Hatter decided to make certain of it himself, and started circling her to check for injuries.

The old knight started coiling his rope back up, spitting the strangest insults Alice had ever heard at the two of them. "Subverters! Pig-pushing flecks!" He stalked towards them and clenched his fists angrily. "Bug bashers!"

The girl had had enough. "Who the Hell _are_ you?" It was a question that could, theoretically, cover all her bases - his name, why he was yelling at them, why he was in a suit of armor in the middle of the woods…. With two horses.

He drew himself to his full height, which was considerable, and marched towards them. "I… am a knight," he stated proudly. The effect was ruined, however, when he stepped into a hole which left him shorter than both Hatter and Alice for the moment. He was still quite a sight, wearing chain mail and white armor that had seen better days - patched with bits of random metal and obviously repainted over and over. He had a long, narrow face and hair as white as his steel garb, thin and wispy and matching his beard, which somehow kept its wavy shape, ending in a ridiculous, but fitting curl. He recovered quickly. "The _White_ Knight, to be precise. Sir Charles Eustace Fotheringale le Malvois the _third._" He announced his name with grandiose emphasis. Then, asked pompously. "And who are _you_?"

His voice wavered and trilled like something out of an overacted bit of Shakespeare. Well, she certainly wasn't so grand as all that. "I'm Alice Ham-"

Armor clanked loudly as Sir Charles suddenly surged towards her. "Alice? _The_ Alice?" God, not this again. "_**The**_ Alice?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes in irritation. "_No_, just _Alice_."

"Just… Alice…" Sir Charles looked confused and disappointed, looking off to the side and trying to work it out in his head.

"I thought all you guys were wiped out years ago?" Hatter piped up beside her. This caught the knight's attention back.

"Well, you thought wrong," he admonished arrogantly. "As you can see, I'm as fit as a butcher's dog." His slapped his hands against his chest plate with a clang, belying the statement with a little cough. Alice glanced at Hatter. A bunch of knights could be a huge help at this point.

"Are there any others like you?" She asked hopefully. Sir Charles chuckled.

"Certainly not," he exclaimed amusedly, moving away and bending to pick up his shovel and various tools. "I'm a one-off. My nan used to say that if I were the only eligible bachelor left in the world, then there wasn't a warthog or wallflower who'd polish my escutcheon." He laughed at the joke, finding it a good chuckle.

"No… Sir. I mean are there any other knights in these woods? Your… comrades in arms?" she tried again. The White Knight scoffed incredulously.

"Heavens no! Are you mad? We were all wiped out years ago," he told her. Alice's hope vanished like smoke in the wind.

"You dug that pit on your own?" Hatter asked. Yes, because the fact that the old man can dig is the important thing here. Sir Charles dropped his gear and turned to the younger man, highly insulted.

"You think I'm too old?" He stalked over, driving the other two back under the force of his rant. "Well, let me tell you something _knug_ face. Youth is _vastly_ overrated. I may have put on a few years, but I'm crafty. I've a very inventive and calculating mind stacked _high_ with groundbreaking, state of the art ideas. I invent all sorts of things!" He finally stopped, turning his attention to Alice, whom he apparently liked better than Hatter. Of course, she was more polite. "The beehive mousetrap, for instance." He said it so excitedly, she thought he expected her to know what that was. Fortunately, he moved on, going back to berating Hatter. "This here _pit,_ as you so rudely call it, is my third attempt at the Grrrravity-" rolling his R very dramatically "- Assisted Snare, Mark IV."

Something seemed to catch his notice then and he wandered a little away with a contemplative expression on his face.

"He's mad as a box of frogs," Hatter turned to her. Between Hatter's colloquialisms and Sir Charles's overly ostentatious speaking style, Alice was starting to feel a bit mad herself. Then to Charlie, he asked - yes, rudely, "How the Hell have you survived?"

The knight held up his hands for silence, listening hard for something. Whatever it was lost his interest and he looked to the younger man. "Hmm? Oh, yes." He straightened up again and gave Hatter a charmingly blasé smile. "I'm a knight." He chuckled and moved to go passed them again, presumably to pick up his discarded shovel. "And I'm an inventor, as I said. Though, if I'm honest, it's strictly on a part time basis."

"You don't say?" Hatter commented sarcastically. The old man stopped before Alice, a mischievous expression taking over his face.

"And I dabble in the _Black Arts…_ now and then." His voice dropped to a theatrical moan, hands coming up to add to the effect. "Soothsaying… toenail readings… That sort of thing." He might have been out in the woods alone for way too long, but the guy was starting to grow on her. Then, he snatched up her hand. "Here, let me show you. Give me your palm-"

Alice yanked her hand away, for it had been her left hand which still sported the troublesome ring. "Don't," she protested, taking a step back. Sir Charles's just stared at her.

"What's that on your finger," he asked. Hatter tensed and moved so close to her side, their arms were pressed together.

"Nothing," Alice tried to lie, but it was plain the old man already knew the truth. His face went slack with awe.

"It's the sacred ring," he exulted. "The Stone of Wonderland. _Our_ ring." He took a tiny step forward with each statement and Alice stepped back. Hatter planted a hand on the knight's chest plate and pushed him back, slipping between them.

"Don't get too excited, granddad. The ring stays on the lady's finger, okay?" he asserted firmly. Sir Charles turned away, overcome with emotion. He dropped to his knees and seemed to pray or exalt, to… someone; God, the fates, who knows?

"It is meant to be!" he exclaimed. "This time, this place, this meeting in the woods!" He trailed off into incoherent mumbling and Hatter grabbed her hand.

"O-kay. We need to get away from him, before he gets us killed." He started off, pulling Alice behind, but she tugged him to a stop.

"Wait. Maybe he can help us." Now he looked at her like _she_ was nuts.

"Have you forgotten about the guy that's tailing us? Rabbit-head, nose for blood, remember?" He gestured to the knight derisively. "This _freakshow_ is gonna draw his attention for sure."

"If this knight has survived out here alone, he must know a thing or two," she pointed out. Hatter shook his head, but she moved to go back to the old man. She got about as far as the length of her and his arms, as the man wouldn't budge and refused to let go of her hand. "Sir Charles, there are some men after us who want the Stone and will kill us to get it. Do you know of a place we can hide; lay low for a while?"

"The stars are aligned in a cosmic array of hope!" was the answer she got. Great.

"And you want to put your faith in him?" Hatter snarked. Alice huffed, throwing up her hand in exasperation.

"Yes." She rubbed her temple, her head was starting to ache. Alot. "Look, I know he might be nuts and a hundred years old, but he's obviously a survivor."

"And I'm not deaf," the knight chimed in pointedly. He got to his feet, his expression lucid once more. All pride and pomp again, he declared," Justalice-" Oh, come on. Really? "-I will be honored to escort you, your goods, and…" He curled his lip in distaste, eyes barely flicking at Hatter. "Vassal. To my sacred kingdom." He finished it off with a bow, awaiting her reply.

"Did he just call me your vessel?" the man at her side inquired, sounding vaguely insulted.

"No, vassal," Alice told him dismissively. "Thank you, noble sir. I am ceaselessly grateful for your assistance." Taking hold of her skirt with her free hand, she curtsied. Turns out those years in Drama Club hadn't been a waste of time after all. The knight puffed up like a peacock and strutted back to the pit to gather his things. Hatter was looking at her with raised eyebrows, nonplussed. "What?"

He shook his head, waving his empty hand in disregard, then let her lead him after the old man. "So, I'm your vassal, is that right?"

"Don't be so sensitive," she admonished wearily.

"Oh, I'm not," he insisted, lips quirked into a teasing half-smile. "I just wish I'd known so I could have remembered the rose petals to throw at your feet."

"I prefer carnations. Do they have carnations in Wonderland?"

He shrugged. "Must have, every flower that ever grew grows somewhere in Wonderland. I'll be sure to get some for when you take tea with the Duke and Duchess."

Sir Charles was securing his tools to a dappled grey stallion when they reached him. He quickly finished and took the other horse, an auburn colored mare, by the reigns. "My lady, this is Guinevere. She shall be your mount."

"Thank you, again, Sir Charles. Your generosity knows no bounds." Maybe it was because she was so exhausted that she kept up with the flowery speech. He seemed to glow under her praise, however, so it wasn't a bad thing.

"It is my pleasure, My lady. And you may call me 'Charlie'." It was a just odd enough thing to say to make her want to laugh again. He handed the reigns to Hatter - her vassal, of course - and went to mount his own horse.

"Right." Releasing her hand, Hatter gripped the pommel and put his boot in the stirrup, swinging himself up into the saddle so easily, Alice wondered just how often he rode horseback. If they had jets and speedboats in Wonderland, they had to have cars.

"How come I have to ride behind you?" she asked, stepping close to the mare and resting a hand on her flank. The man looked down at her with a smirk.

"Do you know how to ride a horse?"

Well, he had her there. She scowled petulantly. "Hey, who's the vassal here?" He chuckled and offered her his hand, taking his boot from the stirrup so she could use it to swing herself up. Hatter told her how to sit, where to put her legs - tucked just behind his - and to move with the mare's gait and not against it.

They went at a sedate pace, Sir Charles - Charlie insisting the netted device that trailed behind Guinevere would obliterate their tracks, making them impossible to follow. Hatter was shocked to see it actually did what the old man said it would. The tracks vanished and shoots of new grass popped up where ever they went. The realization that magic apparently existed in Wonderland was muted by Alice's heavy fatigue.

"Huh, it even works over mud. It's wiping the tracks clean away," he commented, impressed. "Maybe Senile Sam does have a trick or two up his… Escutcheon."

Alice shook her head, a ghost of a smile and a single chuckle all she could manage. Not long into the trek, Charlie started to sing. The same line over and over like a broken record. "Heeeey nonny, nonny- the wind and the rain. The wind and the rain." It sounded vaguely familiar to the girl. Normally, she'd have been able to figure it out in a few minutes, but not until Hatter asked him to stop the second time did she recognize what the phrase reminded her of. A song from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night - which she had starred in as Viola in high school.

"When that I was and a little tiny boy, with a hey, ho, the wind and the rain.. A foolish thing was just a toy, for the rain it raineth every day… But when I came to man's estate, with a hey, ho, the wind and the rain… 'Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate, for the rain it raineth every day…" It wasn't until Charlie joined in that Alice realize she had started singing the song out loud. She found Hatter half turned in the saddle, staring back at her. Cheeks instantly flushed red, her mouth clamped shut, but Charlie kept on going, singing all the right words.

"How do you know that song?" Hatter asked, eyes intent on her blushing face.

"It's Shakespeare. He's a famous playwrite in my world," she explained.

"Oh yeah? That's interesting. Do you think he got it from Wonderland or Wonderland got it from him?" He mused, turning back to face front again. She shrugged, not even wanting to start thinking about things like that. She was too tired. So tired.

Alice's hands had started out lightly gripping the sides of Hatter's coat, her torso leaned slightly back from him as she sat up straight. It was a little awkward, being right up behind him like that. Not unpleasant, just awkward. This close, she could smell his cologne - or what she thought was cologne anyway - under the scent of leather from his jacket and the slight tang of sweat from the fight with Dodo and all the running. It was warm and deep and spicy; incredibly inviting. A big advantage to their proximity was his body heat. Her dress was pretty well dry now, but the chill of the lake still hung in her bones and she found herself leaning closer to him to take in some of his warmth. Her hands slid down his coat, bit by bit until they rested on his hips. The steady, rhythmic movement of the horse lulled her like a baby rocked in a cradle, Charlie's singing standing in as the soft lullaby.

Her eyelids grew heavy and, as she wasn't the one controlling the horse, she saw no reason to keep them open. As her last store of energy gave out, Alice slumped forward against Hatter's wonderfully solid and warm back. Her arms snaked around his waist and she yawned softly before exhaustion claimed her and she fell asleep, right there on the back of the horse, contentedly snuggled against a man she barely knew.


	7. Heavy Glow

**Remember when I said I was gonna flesh out Hatter? Well, get ready for him to get buff. Er.. metaphorically. Existentially? Whatever. Enjoy.**

* * *

The shrill whinny of one of the horses, likely Guinevere from the proximity of it, brought Alice back to the world. She jumped, arms tightening around the warm body she pressed against, and blinked her eyes into some semblance of focus. Hatter's chuckle shook him gently against her and he peered over his shoulder.

"Welcome back, sleepin' beauty," he grinned back at her. "Did you have a good kip?"

"I'm sorry," the girl apologized quickly, straightening up. He laid his arm over her hands as she started to pull away.

"Don't be. You needed it. You can go back to sleep, if you like, but Charlie says we're nearly there anyway," he said. "Where ever 'there' is."

Alice looked at the landscape around her, finding that they were presently riding across a vast, rolling meadow, heading towards a tall, thick stand of ancient looking trees. Turning her gaze left, then right, she gasped when she realized that what she had first taken as a cloud was, in fact, a white mushroom of truly epic proportions. Highlighted with gold that glinted in the late afternoon sunlight, the thing was tall enough that the top, itself, was shrouded in actual clouds like a mountain.

"Oh my God," she breathed in awe.

"What?" Hatter inquired. She pulled her hand from under his arm and pointed at the breathtaking sight, not comprehending how he could be so unmoved by it. The man just shrugged. "Oh, yeah. Impressive, isn't it?"

She nodded, wrapping her arm around him again. "I wish I had my camera."

"Your what?"

Alice goggled at his back. "What do you mean, what? A camera. You don't have cameras in Wonderland?"

Hatter shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of. What is it?"

"It's a little machine you use to take pictures; capture images of stuff," she explained quickly, just as quickly adding in disbelief, "How can you not have cameras? You've got beetle shaped jets and hand guns, for God's sake!"

The man sighed. "Whoever invented the cam-rah was in your world, remember? The Queen only allows the Suits to bring back technology that fulfills her own fancies."

She frowned, turning away from the awesome scene. "How do you keep a record of your experiences?" Her voice was soft and sad. She had never thought about how much photographs really meant before, they were so common in her world that she took them completely for granted. Without the snapshots, she would have long ago forgotten what her father looked like. Hatter lifted his hand and tapped his temple.

"In here," he said simply. The girl found herself wondering where his parents were; if he had any siblings, close friends, a lover. How long would he remember their faces once he left Wonderland behind? The thought made her chest ache and she was grateful when Charlie brought them to a stop before what looked like an impenetrable wall of foliage.

"Welcome," he said grandly, pulling back a curtain of some thick hanging moss. "To the Kingdom of the Knights."

For the second time in ten minutes, Alice was struck dumb by what her eyes beheld. A massive gorge ran between two mountains and on either side of the chasm lay a majestic ruined city. Gargantuan monoliths in the likeness of chess pieces rose up from among the lower structures, as if reigning over the kingdom. Two massive bridges spanned the gulf. All of it was overgrown with lush greenery, the remnants of a forgotten capitol, still glorious even in decay.

"Well, well. What do you know?" Hatter spoke softly. His tone was odd and, unable to see his face, Alice could not begin to guess what he was feeling.

They moved in silence through the city, Alice feeling she was trespassing on some sacred ground. Nothing moved in the city, save themselves and the occasional bird. It was like walking through a cemetery. The trio moved into an area that was more forest than city, darkened by the shadows of two colossal pieces - a knight and a bishop. This area had been fairly cleared of underbrush and a spacious corral was nestled amongst the trees, complete with roughly built lean-to to shelter the horses. Charlie dismounted first, chivalrously coming to help Alice down from her perch behind Hatter. With the horses unsaddled and turned loose into their enclosure, Sir Charles motioned for his guests to follow and headed down a well worn path.

"Before the war with the Queen of Hearts," the old knight suddenly spoke. "This was once the greatest city in the realm." Alice had no trouble believing that. In her mind, it was still infinitely greater than the deteriorated towers of the city she'd escaped from. "The Red King and his elected council ruled Wonderland with the wisdom of the ages."

"And she destroyed everything," Alice said, filled with sorrow, though the world was not her own.

"We lived in harmony for a thousand years," Charlie lamented softly. "But when the Queen came to power, everything that once was, was no more and the great city fell." The path opened into a clearing and he stopped again, looking back at the other two. "Believe it or not, this was once the throne room."

There was nothing there to indicate there had been a building in this place. The Queen must have razed it to splinters and dust. Now, the only structure in the space was what looked like a poorly built barn. In fact, the area looked like a redneck's front yard, complete with fire pit, hammock and bathtub standing out in the open. Why would Charlie choose to live here, instead of inside one of the buildings? Yes, they were in disrepair, but offered more protection from the elements than this pathetic collection.

"Sadly, all that's left now… is the throne." Alice and Hatter followed the man's gaze and there, presiding over his fallen kingdom, was the Red King: a ghastly collection of bones under an ornate crown, spindly fingers curled over the hilt of his sword, sitting on a marble throne.

"Jesus Christ," she whispered. And she thought the place had felt like a cemetery before. She wasn't horrified by the slain king, only felt a strong sense that she did not belong there.

"Come!" Charlie piped, suddenly chipper. "The sun shall be setting soon and there is much to do before nightfall." He scampered off down into the clearing, leaving the other two to follow.

Alice looked to her companion to gauge his reaction, but Hatter's eyes were miles away. "Hey," she spoke softly, calling him back to the here and now.

"Sorry, what?" he blinked, looking back at her. She might have been prying, but could hot help herself.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head, gesturing about them. "I grew up hearing stories about this city, about the ancient knights. Always thought the Queen had wiped it clean off the face of Wonderland."

"My lady!" Charlie called. It took Alice a moment to find him, standing beside the tub. "I'm sure you would like to bathe, as your harrowing flight has left you quite disheveled."

She had not even thought about what she must look like. Alice's hand flew to her hair, finding the bun hanging off her skull, tangled with strands of her hair that had come loose. One of the pencils she stole from Hatter had broken, but was still stuck in the mess in two pieces. She knew there was Jabberwock blood on her legs and could only image what her face looked like.

"Your vassal-"

"I've got a name, too, Charlie," the younger man interjected irritably.

"- and I shall fetch wood for the fire so you may see to your ablutions in privacy."

Charlie explained how the water reserve he'd built was heated by the sun during the day and fed the tub. He went on at length about his early warning systems and the other devices he had put in place to ensure her absolute safety no matter where she was in the city. Alice peeled of the coat Hatter had loaned her and, yuck, her dress was a horror, covered in dirt and stained with indigo. The old man clucked disapprovingly, like a mother hen.

"Justalice, if you would permit it, I would gladly clean your vestments for you. A lady should not be forced to don such soiled garb. You may disrobe in my chambers-" his chambers being the rickety barn he'd slapped together "-and, when I return, your finery shall be fine once more." The White Knight giggled, pleased with his own little play of words. He took her hand and led her into the structure. It was a lot like holding her grandfather's hand when she was younger, though Charlie had an unexpectedly firm grip.

There was a quaint brass bed with a multicolored quilt inside the barn. Against one of the three walls was an old fashioned modesty screen, with a white dressing gown thrown over the top. Charlie left her there and, after a moment's hesitation, Alice took off her dress. Her underwear and bra and even the damn chili pepper boxers were staying right where they were, thank you very much. The robe was surprisingly pristine, given the somewhat shabby condition of the rest of the knight's possessions. Clean, as well, and smelling vaguely of pine and fresh air.

When she came out, robe wrapped securely around her, Charlie snatched her filthy garment away and scampered off towards another path leading from the clearing. "Come, vassal!"

"It's 'Hatter', you old goat," the younger man insisted. "And I already said I wasn't going with you."

"Now, see here-"

"What do you mean you're not going with him?" Alice demanded. She wanted her bath, dammit.

"I'm not gonna just go and leave you here, alone, with all your kit off, am I?" Hatter scoffed with a scowl.

"Well, I'm not going to take a bath with you hanging around, that's for damn sure," Alice scowled right back.

"I won't look," he insisted, sounding insulted that she would suggest such a thing. She rolled her eyes.

"Charlie just said I'll be completely safe on my own."

"Oh, and I suppose we should just trust whatever Captain Clank says?"

"How dare you, sir!" Charlie piped in offense and was summarily ignored.

"If I need help, I'll just yell," Alice told him firmly. He didn't look convinced for a second.

"And if you fall asleep and go under? You could drown," he countered, acting as though it were an argument-winning point. She crossed her arms.

"You wouldn't be able to tell anyway, since you wouldn't be looking, remember?"

"What if you need someone to scrub your back?" He cajoled, going from a scowl to a teasing grin in a flash.

"Ugh!" she growled. The man was maddening. "Will you just _go_?!"

He just frowned silently and, finally, turned to follow Charlie out of the glade. She let out a huff of annoyance and turned to the water contraption. First plugging the tub's drain, Alice pulled the lever down and the water flowed through the piping and into the basin. It took a moment to untie the tangled laces of her boots, but that was fine; she wasn't in a rush. Only when she could no longer hear Charlie's constant singing, did she let the robe fall from her shoulders. Leaving her under things in place, she stepped into the bath. The water was just over lukewarm, but that was fine by her. Beside the tub was a basket, in which were a small cracked mirror and several lumpy cakes of soap. It was strong stuff, a little harsh on her skin, but smelled wonderfully clean and took the dirt and blood right off.

Her skin scrubbed thoroughly, Alice took stock of her injuries. One of her knees had split open without her realizing, probably when she fell in the speedboat, and both were bruised. There were more dark marks on her arms and legs, from her falls though the Looking Glass and into the pit. She took the pencils from her hair, pulling bits of twigs and leaves out as well. The soap was horrible on her locks, but she didn't really care at this point. She felt an overwhelming need to be clean. She got to her face last and, once she'd wiped the water from her eyes, picked up the mirror to have a look at the bruise Hatter said was forming on her throat.

It made her stomach clench to see the imprints of Dodo's fingers there, remembering the feeling of him squeezing, trying to end her. She shivered and the mirror tilted, displaying her split lip. It wasn't so bad, not the worst she'd ever had - and at Master Yakata's she'd gotten quite a few split lips. But, looking at the slight injury, she thought of the White Rabbit and Jack. Jack, who had only been trying to make her happy and look what happened? From Jack to Hatter - poor Hatter - and his wrecked Tea Shop… his wrecked life. Also, because of Alice. The Tea Shop… that poor man had been killed, for no reason at all. It was a nightmare and she was dead at the center of it. Soon enough, that metaphor might be literal.

The shaking started in her hands and spread quickly to the rest of her body. The girl, feeling small and frightened and alone, hugged her arms around herself. The tears came and would not stop, tearing harsh sobs from her already sore throat. She cried and cried, despite the fact that she knew Hatter could hear her from his hiding place somewhere just beyond the tree line. They'd only just met, but she knew him well enough already to understand that he would do what he wanted regardless of her wishes. Letting her think she'd won the argument was just the easiest way to deal with the situation. She could only hope he was a man of his word and hadn't ogled her in her bra and panties.

The water was cooling quickly and the last thing she ever wanted again was to be in cold water. Still sniffling and hiccupping, Alice pulled the plug and stood, wrapping herself in Charlie's dressing gown once more. The little nap on the back of Guinevere barely put a dent in her fatigue and her bones ached with weariness. As she flopped weakly onto Charlie's bed, she knew his sense of honor would keep him from getting irritated over her soaking the mattress with bathwater and the pillow with tears. Finally, exhaustion won out over histrionics and the deep oblivion of sleep rushed to embrace her once again. Just before she lost track of the world, Alice was sure she felt someone pull Charlie's tatty quilt gently over her and smooth her hair back from her face.

"Mom?" her voice was fuzzy and slurred. She could have sworn she heard someone chuckle, but sank into dreamless slumber and forgot all about it.

* * *

"Oi! Watch it! You almost got me with that, you know?"

Alice jerked awake, her body screaming in protest at the sudden movement. She lay still, trying to regain her bearings. It was dark wherever she was. Orange light flickered from somewhere nearby, casting dancing shadows against the wooden wall nearest her and the trees beyond. She was warm, she realized, though didn't understand why that should come as a surprise. Then it all came flooding back. The White Rabbit, Wonderland, Hatter. She was in the Kingdom of the Knights, in Charlie's ramshackle abode, in the old paladin's bed. It was surreal to wake up _into_ a nightmare.

"Perhaps, if you didn't sit so close to the fire-"

"Just watch what you're doing, okay?"

Charlie and Hatter's voices traveled to her from the fire pit, which she now understood was the source of the amber glow. She contemplated just going back to sleep and escaping the very unreal reality she was trapped in for a few more hours. Taking a deep breath, the girl stretched - despite the vehement protestations of her sore muscles and various injuries - and brought a heavenly scent to her senses. Her nose had a direct link to her stomach, apparently, which came to life with an angry gurgle and immediately set to gnawing at her insides.

Alice slowly pushed herself upright and took a moment to flex her limbs this way and that, trying to work out some of the painful stiffness. As she got to her feet, she saw that her dress had been draped carefully over the modesty screen along with Hatter's borrow coat, the boots set neatly underneath. Her underthings were still a bit damp, as she had fallen asleep in them. All wrapped up in the dressing gown and quilt, they hadn't had a chance to really dry. That was acceptable, however, because she no longer felt that bone deep chill that had been riding her around all day since her dip in the lake.

The two men continued to bicker idly as she dressed, but their conversation ceased the instant they saw her emerge from the dwelling. A bright smile lit Charlie's face as he rushed to escort her to the fire. He had removed his cumbersome armor and was dressed only in a set of white long johns. Hatter had stood, himself, as well. Why, Alice wasn't sure, since the man had sat right back down again as she approached the pit. A huge bellows pumped on its own, feeding air into the fire. Another of Charlie's creations, no doubt. There was a spit suspended across the pit, a large slab of some meat roasting over the flames. It crackled and sizzled wonderfully, causing her stomach to sit up and beg like an eager pup.

"I trust you slept well, My lady," the knight said solicitously as he sat her down on a chunk of log that served as a stool.

"Yes, thank you," she responded. If Wonderland had been surreal before meeting the White Knight, now it was downright trippy. She looked across the fire to see Hatter looking back at her. "Was I asleep long?"

"A few hours," he informed her. "I was about to wake you for supper, but granddad almost skewered me with his long fork." He gestured to the instrument Charlie had just picked up - a long, two pronged fork of wrought iron.

"I did no such thing," Charlie insisted, dismissively. He used the fork and a great knife to cut meat from the slab and set it on a plate which rested on another wooden stool. When the old man turned back to the roast, Hatter snatched up the plate, carrying it around the fire to Alice. On his way, he pulled off a chunk of meat that looked so tender it all but fell apart in his fingers and quickly popped it into his mouth. Sucking in air to cool the burn from the too hot roast, he chewed quickly.

"Ah! Oh!" he complained before finally swallowing and handing the plate to Alice.

"Serves you right," she admonished, setting the dish on her knees.

"I had to make sure it wasn't poisoned." The Knight snorted in offense, but apparently didn't deem the comment worthy of retort. Alice smirked cynically.

"Bull. You just couldn't wait your turn," she snarked, drawing a wide grin from Hatter. He didn't contradict her, just bent over, reaching to steal another bit of meat. She slapped his hand lightly. "Get your own!"

He chuckled and followed her orders. Charlie, apparently, only had the one actual plate - which he had given to Alice - so the two men ate their dinner from lopsided dishes carved of wood. _Talk about fiber. _As for beverages (water), again, Alice got the only real piece of diningware, while Charlie drank out of what looked like a tin can and Hatter was stuck with the bottom of a broken bottle. The girl offered to let him share her goblet, worried he might cut himself on the glass edge, but he shook his head, asserting, "I'm more rugged than all that."

Beyond that, the girl ate in silence, focused on quieting her unruly gut. Hatter was uncharacteristically quiet as well, which left Charlie to fill void in conversation with expansive recountings of several of his more ingenious inventions. The beehive mousetrap, it turned out, was a honeycomb like contraption that could accommodate several rodents at a time. Thus, it was far more practical than your normal mousetrap, which only had one shot; more humane, as well, as the mice were not killed by the trap mechanism itself. She had to admit, that was pretty nifty.

Once her stomach was purring like a contented kitten, Alice turned to the Tea Shop owner. "Who do you think is leading the posse?" As he had mentioned he might know the identity of the Rabbit.

Hatter took his time chewing, swallowed and took a drink of water before answering. "A man called Mad March. He was the Queen's favorite assassin until a year ago."

"What happened a year ago?"

"She had him beheaded." Well, that sounded like the Queen of Hearts from the book, alright. Alice shook her head.

"I think I've been in Wonderland too long," she commented. At the younger man's questioning look, she shrugged. "I'm not even really surprised that someone who was killed a year ago is up and around, chasing after us."

He nodded. "It's not really a _usual _occurrence, anyway."

Charlie asked if anyone would want more of the meat. Both shook their heads.

"That was delicious, Charlie," Alice complemented with a smile. The man beamed. "What was it?"

"Barbequed borogove," he told her. "They're the devil to catch, but well worth the trouble. Don't you think?" She nodded. It had been incredibly rich and juicy, with just the tiniest hint of gaminess. Alice wouldn't mind having borogove once a week for the rest of her life.

"Shan't be long!" Charlie piped, scampering off into the darkness. Alice assumed he was going to relieve himself, but was too much of a gentleman to say so.

"You recognized him pretty fast. Did he always have a rabbit head?"

"No. He used to be a blonde, one of those page-boy haircuts." He shook his head with a snort.

"You knew him?"

Again, the man paused before answering. "Yeah. I knew him." He glanced at her and Alice could not keep the inquisitive look off her face. That wasn't true, she could have if she had wanted to, but she didn't want to. She felt she needed to know how her proclaimed ally knew the assassin who was trailing them. And, if she was perfectly honest with herself, she wanted to know about the enigmatic Hatter.

"His name was Matthew, Matt. We were in the Guard together," he began haltingly.

"The guard?"

"The Royal Guard."

"You were in the _Royal Guard_?" Alice blinked. Of all the things she might have expected, this was not one of them. He sighed shortly and she held up a hand of surrender, silently apologizing for interrupting him.

"We were seventeen, Matt and I. We were in the same unit and became a bit of a team. Friends. Partners in mischief. Along with Dormie, the little fellow who runs… ran the bidding room at the Tea Shop. At first, it was all watchin' over balls and guarding museums, patrolling places that didn't need patrolling. Then, everything started to change.

"Our unit began to back up others, raid teams sent in to clear out Resistance strongholds. Soon, it was us doing the clearing." The flare of firelight cast deep shadows over his eyes. Or maybe it wasn't the fire at all. "Matt started to change, too. He'd always had a mean streak, but not… he was losing control. One day he opened fire on a room full of Resistance prisoners. Seventeen men. That's when 'Matt' turned into 'Mad'. Everyone thought that was a good laugh, Mad and Hatter."

He shook his head, setting his plate down between his legs, and scrubbed a hand over his mouth and chin. "I couldn't stomach it. I started slackin' off. Pretending I didn't see people sneaking out the back of buildings as we went in the front, letting little things slip at pub before a raid, counting the days until my turn was up. M…" He stopped, running his tongue behind his bottom lip. "March was actually surprised I was leaving. He stayed in, of course; ended up going for special training. Dormie came with me, though.

"My work in the Guard got me the job at the Tea Shop. I contacted the Resistance and here we are." He spread his hands, indicating their current situation and location. He gave her the spectre of a smile that had nothing to do with levity and turned his gaze into the fire. Just when she thought she knew something about him, he blew her right back out of the water. She just couldn't see him as ever having been on the side of the Queen. Selfish, sleazy, conniving; yes, yes, and yes, but not _that_.

"I know what you're thinking," he said without looking up. "My father was a Suit, Alice. I just wanted to make him proud."

Christ. The bombshells just fell from his lips as easy as you please. She took a drink of water, because she could think of nothing else to do.

"Did you?"

He shook his head. "Dunno. He died a month after I committed."

"I'm sorry." She said it by reflex, but she also meant it. He nodded his acceptance of the formality.

"I like to think he's with my mum, now." His voice was so soft as he said it. Alice felt a burning lump in her throat. "She went out as I was coming in." She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. How could someone who spent all his time laughing have such a horrible and heartbreaking past?

"How about you?" he asked, his voice markedly brighter. "Mum and dad waiting for you back in the world of oysters?"

She swallowed, sniffing and quickly clearing the thickness from her throat. "Mom is. Dad… left when I was little."

"He ran out on you and your mum?" This brought the man's attention back to her and he finally turned his gaze from the fire. She shook her head and opened her mouth to say "No," but stopped. She couldn't make herself say "Yes", either. In the end, she shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe? He just vanished one day." The girl made a _poof_ motion with her fingers. "One minute he was there and the next he was gone."

"That's gotta be hard on a kid."

She shrugged again. "I did okay. Mom was great. She _is_ great." God, her mother had to be so worried. Alice wished she hadn't eaten so much as her stomach was tightening painfully around the heavy meal. Husband and daughter both vanishing without a trace? It wasn't fair. Carol didn't deserve that.

"Hey," Hatter called softly, concerned. "Don't think like that. You're going to see her again."

Alice let out a single, mirthless laugh, sniffled and wiped at her nose. "How do you always know what's in my head?"

He half smiled. "It's all over your face. I'd have to be blind not to see." She shook her head, poking at what little food was still on her plate - mostly bones and bits of gristle. He was good at reading people, that much was certain. Alice had never been so transparent as that before, so far as she knew.

"Can you see a way to make a deal with the White Rabbit? Because that would be a bit more useful."

He sighed, stabbing his fork into the food on his plate. It was then Alice noticed that he had barely touched his meal at all. He had to have some heavy thoughts on his mind to turn him off of borogove.

"I did say it was a long shot," he reminded her, standing and picking up his plate. He took hers as well and stacked them with the dirty cutlery on the other side of the fire. "But, as long as you've got that ring, you've got a chance."

Something was off with that statement. "You?" She cocked her head to the side. "What happened to 'we'?"

Hatter took a breath and shook his head. "I can't leave Alice. Wonderland is my home and I can't just abandon it, despite what I said." Half an hour ago, she would have viewed him as taking the first opportunity out of a bad situation and nothing more, but now, with her new understanding, she could see how he would feel he was abandoning his home, giving up on it when it most needed people like him. "I have to stay and fight."

She nodded. "What changed your mind?"

He spread his arms and looked about them. "Seeing all this. Look. This great kingdom and what.. What's become of it." He let his limbs fall. "It's a wake-up call, to be honest. My people," in true Hatter fashion, he started back around the campfire, unable to stand still. "The hundreds of refugees that are all _hiding_, underground, they're all counting on me."

A little taken aback by the high level of responsibility he took on himself, Alice frowned. "That's a little unrealistic, don't you think? It can't all be on you, Hatter."

"I still have to try," he insisted. "I can't just give up and run off like it all means nothing."

"You can't stay, either," she countered, not angry, but concerned. "You said it yourself, you're a target for the suits. And Dodo said he'd have you killed, so the Resistance wants you dead, too."

He at least acknowledged this point, nodding his head to the side. "Yeah. But, I'm thinking if I turn up with the ring, he might forgive me." She could tell by the expression that took over his face that he might not have meant to reveal that part of his plan to her just yet. Her shoulders tensed, jaw muscles tightening as her chin thrust out in anger.

"So, that's your plan?"

"Don't worry," he was quick to reassure her. "I'll get you home, safe and sound, first."

She wasn't reassured. Arms crossed, she already knew the answer he'd give, but asked anyway," And Jack?"

Hatter took a deep breath and let it out, he turned from her and stalked a few steps away, presumably to get his frustration under control. As it was, his voice was still sharp when he turned back. "You have to forget about Jack." Now she was the one who turned away, moving to put the fire between them as he tried in vain to convince her. "You'll never get him out of the casino alive and trying will only set of alarm bells. It'll make your escape impossible."

Alice tossed a couple logs into the fire to keep herself from tossing them at the infuriating man. "How many times do I have to say 'no' before you get it?"

"Just believe me, it'll be suicide," Hatter insisted. She did not respond to him, sitting down on the log-stool Charlie had been using during dinner. How could he think she'd abandon Jack? For all he said she was an open book, his level of reading comprehension was crap. He muttered something under his breath. This she looked up at. Whatever he muttered about her, he should have the balls to say to her face. "What?"

With a tired sigh, the man shook his head. "Nothing. Look, it's late," he walked around the pit and around her. "And we all need our rest." He leaned over in a partial bow she supposed was supposed to look charming or ingratiating. Didn't work. "We can.. argue about this tomorrow. Yeah?" She didn't answer and he gave up, turning and heading off into the shadows, leaving her alone by the fire with only her thoughts for company.


	8. Never Take Anything for Granted

**Here we are again. Just in time for Alice to run off and do something stupid. Just a warning, my Queen being different is nothing against Kathy Bates. Personally, I think she wasn't used to her full potential with the writing. Hopefully, you guys will like my version. And thank you for all the great feedback. It's awesome to know you all are enjoying reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it.**

**PS: Can you believe I couldn't find one Hatter video on youtube set to Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out for a Hero? Travesty.**

* * *

Alice lay in Charlie's brass bed and stared up at the ceiling of the "chamber". The fire still burned outside, casting dancing shadows on the wood above her. She could hear the old man snoring and murmuring softly in his sleep. The girl, on the other hand, could not sleep. Not that she wasn't still tired and tired and tired from the events of the day, because she was. She just could not allow herself to drift off. Not now. Now that she had a plan.

It wasn't the greatest plan, that was for sure. She was almost entirely certain that the Suits would be searching the woods where she and Hatter had been last spotted and beyond. She was also almost entirely certain she would be able to find her way. Okay, maybe not almost entirely, but reasonably optimistic. Yes, she had fallen asleep during the ride, but she knew they had been going in a general westerly direction. Or, she assumed it was west as they were heading towards the setting sun, but who knew which way that really was in Wonderland?

Birds had started to sing not long ago, their chirping breaking the relative stillness of the little glade. The sky was still black, but Alice knew that it was a sign that dawn was fast approaching. She had to make her move now, before either of the others awoke. Of course, she thought as she slid slowly out of bed, that was assuming both of them actually were asleep. She could hear the White Knight snoozing away, but Hatter had been silent as the grave ever since their argument by the pit. There was no doorway to the shack, just one open wall, and as Alice approached it, she could see Charlie in his hammock, strung between two trees on the opposite side of the clearing.

She looked around, trying to locate Hatter and jumped when she saw that he had bedded down right outside the barn. The open side of the building could be closed off with a gate and the man was leaning back against it, knees drawn up. His arm was wound between the criss-crossed framework, his head resting against the wood. The ubiquitous hat perched on one of his knees, leaving his tousled hair free to curl and stand up as it liked. He looked so peaceful in sleep. The soft light of the fire bathing his face washed out the stubble she knew was on his jaw and made him look so much younger and more vulnerable. It must have been this illusion of vulnerability playing on her nurturing instincts that made her go back into the barn and grab the pillow and blanket from the bed.

The girl carried them back to the sleeping man. She took his hat from his knee, setting it aside so she could spread the quilt over him. Carefully, she slid her hand between his head and the fence bar, momentarily marveling at how soft his hair was, how it curled around her fingers. Hatter stirred as she lifted his head, dark eyes looking up at her in bleary confusion.

"S'the matter?" he mumbled, barely forming the words.

"Just a pillow," she whispered. Like a child, he let her adjust him, sighing softly when she slipped the pillow between his skull and the hard, wooden gate. He went right back out again. He had to have been as tired as Alice herself, she realized, despite the seemingly endless stores of energy the man displayed. Her fingers itched not unpleasantly where his hair had touched her skin. She picked up his hat and looked it over. It didn't look too much worse for wear considering all it had been through. For some reason, it struck her amusing that the satiny lining inside matched the crimson of his shirt.

Hatter was definitely high on the list of the most interesting and confusing people she had ever met. Maybe as far as number two, as Charlie would probably never be displaced as number one after today. He presented himself - or, more accurately, misrepresented himself - as a selfish, greedy rake, all charm and mockery and sly wit. Behind the façade, to her surprise, was an altogether different man. Still charming and sly witted, he was actually quite passionate about helping others and, as evidenced by his actions towards herself, compassionate and caring as well. Selfless as he put aside his own well being, first in coming to her defense against Dodo and now, again, in insisting he must stay and try to fight. Dodo had been idealistic, ranting about reason and justice, but Hatter had only been concerned with the people, the refugees he risked so much to aide.

Alice realized then that she and Hatter were very alike in at least one regard. He was more than willing to put himself in harm's way for his people and she was willing to risk her life to save Jack. Looking down at the hat in her hands, the girl also realized something else. Jack's life did not outweigh the fate of an entire world, no matter how much she cared for him. Nor did her own life. She would not stop trying to save him, oh no. But she could not allow the ring to be reclaimed by the Queen of Hearts. She would leave it behind, someplace safe, someplace she knew it would eventually be found and make its way into the hands of the Resistance. She couldn't just leave it out in plain sight or else Hatter would immediately rush back to the city with it and get himself caught by the Suits still out looking for her.

Her over all plan did not change, however. She would still leave and leave now. Hatter had risked too much for her already and she could not imagine dragging poor Charlie into her mess as well. She did not belong in their world and they did not belong in her fight. Taking a deep breath, she slipped off the ring and turned towards the Red King, silent on his throne.

"This is our secret, your Majesty," she whispered.

* * *

Alice hugged herself, rubbing her hands against the goosebumps that had risen on her upper arms. She now wished she hadn't left the lush, velvet coat behind, but it had seemed like the thing to do at the time. Having taken so much from the man already, she couldn't in good conscience steal Hatter's coat as well. It was bad enough he would not be getting his boots back. She was not about to walk barefoot through the woods. The sky had lightened to a dull blue-gray and day would break soon enough, warming the air around her. The girl would just have to suck it up until then.

She was out of sight of the Kingdom of the Knights now, heading due east, she thought; would know for certain when the sun finally peeked from beyond the horizon. She wasn't sure if Hatter or Charlie would be able to pick up her trail and could only hope she had a good enough lead on them that it wouldn't matter. It was so chill in the early, early morning that she actually started to shiver. _Stupid dress._ Maybe she could risk sitting down for a couple minutes, just to rest and conserve her body heat until the sun rose. Picking a large tree with a little nook at the base, she hunkered down, curling up into herself to try and ease the shivering. Just closing her eyes for a second couldn't hurt anything, right? She wasn't going to fall asleep in that short a time.

A twig snapped close by and her eyes snapped open. Alice was no longer alone. Directly in front of her stood, actually _sat_, a creature that appeared vaguely feline. Long and thin, the creature's striped fur was sleek, but dull. Stick-like legs ended in large paws, muted at the moment, but she knew there must be sharp claws just waiting to slide out from the toes. Atop a skinny neck was a wide head, set with two enormous and shining emerald green eyes. It had to be at least four feet tall. A gold hoop glinted in one of its large, pointed ears. The cat's long whiskers twitched, but it made no move towards her, made no sound. Alice swallowed and just stared back at it, not knowing what she should do, what she _could_ do if the creature decided to pounce. Strangely, she wasn't afraid.

Byzantium. The word popped into her head. That was the color of the cat's fur. She'd learned it years ago in art class, back when knowing obscure names for colors had earned her smiles from the teacher, Mr. Billings. His eyes, not Mr. Billing's, but the creature's (as it was definitely a male, by the way), widened almost imperceptibly, then narrowed. The corners of the feline's mouth began to rise, his lips -if a cat could have such things as lips - parted, revealing far too many sharp, pointed teeth as the mouth stretched wider and wider, impossibly wide; so wide Alice thought that if it didn't split the cat's skull, it would at least meet itself around the back of his head.

"Hello, Alice," it said in a deep, pleasingly raspy baritone.

Alice gasped, jumping and scraping her bare shoulders against the bark of the tree. The woods before her were empty. What? She looked back and forth, getting to her feet so she could peer around the trunk she had been leading against. Nothing. She was alone. She must have dozed off sitting at the foot of the tree. What a weird dream. Her hypothesis was backed up by the fact that thin shafts of real sunlight were filtering through the trees. The sun was rising, it was time for her to get moving again.

Keeping to her eastward course, she walked and walked, finally leaving the forest for an open expanse of sagey brush. The sun was fully in the sky as she made her way between two massive hills, the path between well worn enough to give her confidence that she was heading in the right direction. As she came from between the hills, on the far horizon she could make out the skyline of the city. Normally, upon seeing one's goal when unsure of the navigation, one would feel relief. Instead, she felt a cold coil of trepidation in her chest. She was taking the biggest, blindest, most foolish leap of her life, but it was the only thing she could think of and, hey, it just might work.

Turning toward the city, Alice made her way through another little field of brambles. All at once, she was surrounded, Suits popping up from behind bushes like in a cartoon. And there, front and center, was Rabbit, Mad March - the Queen's favorite assassin, post humus.

"Hello, Alice," he said, his voice tinny and robotic like a tracheotomy survivor's voice box. "You looked like you could use a little company." March's head twitched inhumanly and she couldn't stop her lip from curling just a little. _God, that's disturbing. "_Where's Hatter?"

She set her jaw and gazed defiantly at the assassin, keeping her mouth shut tight. March stalked towards her, pulling a knife from his sleeve. The action shocked her and she wheeled back, tripping over the shrub behind her. March caught her by her hair, which still hung loose down her back. The girl shrieked as he yanked her head back, bringing the blade to her throat. "Tell me where Hatter is or I'll slit your pretty throat."

So much for her brilliant plan. She was so sure the Queen would have given orders for her to be brought in alive and so sure those orders would be followed to the letter, that March's Mad moniker had not figured heavily enough into her equations. As the metal, not nearly as cold as she felt it should be considering its purpose, pressed against her jugular, Alice surprised herself by remaining silent. Her heart was pounding away at her ribs like a battering ram and her legs felt like Jell-o, but she would not give up the Tea Shop owner, even if it cost her life. She had never thought herself brave before. It was a nice little realization to have just before dying, she thought.

One of the Suits spoke up. "Mad March, the Queen has commanded-"

"That old bat can sit on it," the killer cut him off, pressing the sharp edge more firmly against her. Alice could feel it begin to slice through her skin. The metallic click of a gun cocking, followed by half a dozen more stilled March's hand.

"The oyster is to be taken back alive. Her majesty wasn't so specific on you, however," the Suit told him. The girl had never been so happy to hear a death threat in her life. March pulled away, letting her fall onto the shrub at her back. The sharp little branches dug into her flesh, but that was a small irritation compared to the relief of not having that knife against her throat any longer.

As her would-be murderer moved away, the other Suits surged forward, catching her arms and pulling her up from the bramble. Some still had their guns drawn, but the rest were standing around like a bunch of bodyguards as the VMAs. One of them, sporting a white spade with an A above it on his shoulder, flipped open what looked like some kind of cell phone. Well, Hatter had said the Queen let her Suits bring back technology that tickled her fancy. Within minutes a Scarab was winging its way towards them.

The Suits dragged her onboard the ship, though she went willingly. She wasn't resisting, but the girl's stomach dropped to her knees when one of them mentioned searching her. How had that slipped her mind? God, of course they would search her for the ring - search her _everywhere_, no doubt. Her face flushed bright red as they pulled her towards a small area enclosed in plexiglass. Instead of going in with her, the agents just shoved the girl inside and slide the door closed.

Another man, this one in a white lab coat, the number eight above a black club emblazoned at the shoulder, stepped forward. "Miss, put your feet in the squares marked on the floor and your hands inside the circles on the wall."

Alice looked down at her feet and, indeed, there were two squares marked off on the floor. She looked back at the man, confused and he repeated his order. Not really having much choice, the girl did as she was told, leaning forward to put her hands flat against the plexiglass inside the painted circles. Number Eight moved to a console set into the wall of the ship beside the box and started pressing buttons. A soft humming filled the air and Alice's hair stood on end, not from nerves, but from a sudden charge of static electricity. The floor beneath her feet suddenly lit up. _What the Hell?_

On the console, the screen flickered to life and displayed the image of a human skeleton. _Her_ skeleton, Alice realized. The clear cell was some kind of advanced X-ray machine. That was a huge relief. Amazing how little things like not being strip searched by a bunch of strange men could brighten even the worst day just a touch.

"She doesn't have it," Eight told the Ace, who scoffed.

"What do you mean she doesn't have it?"

"Look for yourself," he pointed at the screen. "She doesn't have the ring. It would have shown up on the scan."

No one looked very happy about this discovery, which was exactly what Alice wanted. With everyone worrying about coming up short before the Queen, she decided to put part two of her plan into action.

"You want the ring?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard above the hum of the machine. No one paid her any mind. "Do you?" As a unit, every Suit before her turned and walked out of the room. What? No! That wasn't the way it was supposed to go. "Hey! Where are you going?" She pounded her hands against the glass. The glass! They couldn't hear her through the walls of the scanner, could they? "No! _No! Come back!_" Fuck!

Alright, calm down, Alice. Drawing a few deep breaths, she tried to calm herself down with minimal success. Something itched at her neck and when she reached up toe scratch it, her fingers came away stained red. March's knife had actually cut her, if only shallowly. From what she could feel, the cut extended about three inches across her throat. _I have to sit down._ And she did just that, curling her bare legs under her on the cold glass floor of the cell.

It was okay, she wasn't done in. Not yet. She just had to wait until they came back. They would, of course, since they'd have to take her back out of the little cell to get her off the Scarab. Then, she could cut a deal. Right? Wrong. At the far end of the room was a large oval window. Through this, Alice could see a strange, garish building in the distance. Like an inverted pyramid, the structure was wide at the top and grew narrower towards the base. How something like that could even support itself and stay standing was beyond her comprehension. As they grew closer, she could see that the building, like the Tea Shop, had a red electronic crawl. _Happy Hearts Casino, Living the Dream._ Wow. But, tackiness aside, that was where she wanted to go.

Unfortunately, that was not where the Scarab was headed. Instead they seemed to be on an intercept course with another aircraft, some kind of dirigible. A wave of trepidation washed through the girl as she took in the huge rectangular ship supported by cables that attached it to a massive balloon - metallic red and shaped, she saw, like a heart. An announcement came over the PA system for all passengers to assume docking positions, followed by a loud series of clangs as the jet locked into place on a flat landing deck stop the other ship.

Soon, the Suits came to reclaim her. As they marched her off the jet, she tried again in desperation. "Don't you want to know where the ring is?" No one answered her. They didn't even _look_ at her. Eyes forward, mouths shut seemed to be the order of the day. "Where are you taking me?"

"To the Queen," the one holding her right arm said shortly. Her legs stopped working and, if not for the stony grip the men had on her upper arms, Alice would have gone down right there. She was being taken before the Queen of Hearts, a sadistic monarch who thought more about the drape of her skirts than sending someone to their death. Hatter had been right all along. This was suicide.

But, hadn't that been a possibility from the start? And hadn't she just stared death in the face with Mad March's knife at her throat? Yes, she had whimpered and shook, but she had not flinched - which was the important part. Of course, that was only death. Who knew what the Queen might have in store for her?

The girl was lead from the Scarab pad through stark corridors lined by plush crimson carpeting. The only decoration on the white walls were blood red hearts fashioned of intricately woven and twisted filigree, each one unique from the others. Two grand double doors, twice over as tall as she was if not more, swung open as they approached, as Alice was led into the throne room. The carpet in this room was pure snow white and matching white drapes hung down from the ceiling to cover all the walls. It felt like she was inside a gift box. Clear glass crystals hung from the ceiling like icicles, lit from within and here and red lights glowed softly behind the white fabric on the walls. There was a raised dais set back in the room, with graduating sections stepping down to the floor level.

The only furnishings in the room sat on the dais, both deep sangria. One, on the second level, was a comfortable looking armchair, over stuffed and high backed, complete with ottoman footstool. The other sat on the highest level, a grand throne of polished red jade, carved with the same intricacy as the hearts in the hallway, the seat of which was overly wide and luxuriously padded with velvet and satin cushions.

Several courtiers were standing about the room, the Queen's personal audience existing only to please her. The man with black robes and strange hat - which Alice now understood was a club, his "suit" - who had been there at the Tea Shop when Mad March killed the innocent man stood at the foot of the platform. Another similarly dressed, but much shorter cohort stood at his side. The Suits in this room were dressed in white, the red mark of their Queen at their shoulders. All Aces, all hearts. Beside the armchair stood a man in his late forties, thickly built and dull eyed, adorned in a suit of sanguine material to be envied by every Italian tailor ever to thread a needle.

And there, on the throne, the Queen of Hearts herself. She was nothing and everything Alice had expected. She wore a lush and beautifully embroidered robe that could only be made of the finest silk, threads of gold woven through the garment to form an exquisite pattern of hearts that could never be considered gaudy. The Queen in the book and cartoon was fat and unattractive, but this woman, while heavyset, she was not obese. And not unattractive. Her hair, the color of a candied apple, was pulled elegantly back from her handsome face and there was a regal arch to her fine dark brows. Her skin was clear and pale, the kind they faked in beauty ads back in her world, lips so red it looked like they were bleeding.

"Where is the ring?" the Queen demanded, her voice the most genteely accented Alice had ever heard, deep and rich and powerful, everything the voice of a Queen should be. Struck dumb with awe and fear, the little oyster could not have answered if she tried. Lucky for her, the monarch was speaking to the Ace at her side and not the girl, herself.

"She doesn't have it, Your Majesty," he answered. Though the man's voice was clear and firm, Alice could feel his hand trembling where he held her arm. Spartan rules apply in the kingdom of the Hearts and the messenger bearing ill news risked suffering an ill fate.

"Perhaps we should search her again," the man, the _king_ suggested, stepping down to look Alice over. "More… thoroughly."

"It wouldn't do any good, sir," said the Ace beside her. The king glanced at him and lifted his eyebrows conspiratorially, mouth curling upward in a slightly lecherous fashion.

"Oh, I don't know about that."

"Winston." The Queen reigned him in with a single sharp word, then turned her attention fully on the shaking prisoner. "Where did you hide it, girl?"

Alice jumped and for a second, just a split second, might have given up the ring. _If the Queen ever found out, they wouldn't stand a chance._ Hatter's words came to her mind from nowhere and she could see the poor people hiding, huddled among the books in the Great Library. No, she tried to shake off the fear gripping her heart. She wouldn't give up the ring. She straightened her spine.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she announced, amazed that her voice didn't shake as much as she expected. The Queen's face remained impassive, as though the girl's answer meant nothing. The king, however, scoffed and rolls his eyes.

"We know Jack gave you the ring, Alice. The head of the White Rabbit told us, God rest his soul," he said, motioning the Suits away so he could circle his captive. So, Mr. Sinister had been execute for failing to retrieve the ring. She wanted to take satisfaction from that, but the thought just made her ill. "But the question is… did you leave it in your world?"

The Queen of Hearts' upper lip twitched ever so slightly in annoyance. "Winston, you idiot. Now she knows we don't know whether she brought it with her," she admonished her husband in disgust.

"Ah, that's right…" the king's tone lost its bravado under the reprimand. "Sorry dearest," he apologized with the ease of long practice. "This interrogation business is very tricky." He sighed and moved to complete his ring around Alice, but stopped to her right. "Wait, is she _really _that clever?"

The Queen narrowed her eyes, her face taking on a look of superior self-satisfaction. "Oh, yes. I think she just may be." The monarch rose from her throne then and everyone in the room began to shift uncomfortably. "You walked into Mad March's trap on purpose, didn't you?" She asked Alice. The girl knew she was not meant to answer, which was good, because her tongue felt like a thick, useless lump taking up space in her mouth. "You wanted him to catch you, because you didn't know your way to the casino."

The Queen turned, moving down the steps as she spoke and that was when the girl noticed the light glinting off something at the woman's side. Half as long as the Queen's leg, the sword was almost serpentine in shape, like someone had caught a wisp of smoke and gave it form as a wicked blade of palest silver and that gray remnant of the smoke followed the length of the cutting edge, so sharp Alice thought just looking at it could draw her blood.

"You would only do that, of course, if you'd hidden the ring first. Somewhere very discreet. Am I right?" She didn't wait for an answer, already knowing everything she said was correct. "Your plan was to cut a deal with one of my underlings, make your demands, and return the ring only when they'd been met. But, suddenly, you find yourself face to face with the Queen of Hearts herself; the most powerful woman in the history of literature and you don't know whether you can go through with it." Unnaturally red lips curved into a smug smirk as the Queen looked at Alice. Looked _up_ at her. It was wrong for someone so powerful and dangerous to be so small. She should be eight feet tall, towering over her subjects as literally as she did figuratively. "You've lost your nerve."

Alice swallowed, feeling small and weak under the imposing stare of the Queen, her murky-green eyes filled with arrogance and conceit. "Now, tell me where you've hidden my ring."

"N-no," someone stuttered. Only when the woman's eyes widened slightly and filled with rage did Alice realize it had been she who spoke.

"No?" The Queen demanded, sending a chill through the room.

"I h-haven't lost my nerve," the girl declared, though her voice sounded anything but sure. In a flash of crimson and silver the too keen point of the sword was at the base of her neck.

"Still so confident?"

Alice dared not swallow, dared not breathe for certainty that the sharp point would slide through her skin like water. "If you kill me, you'll never find it."

"Hmm. You may have a point, there," the Queen conceded, lowering the sword. She did not put it away, however. "Perhaps if I killed someone else. Would your steely nerves desert you then?" Moving faster than a tiny, chubby person ought be able, the Queen of Hearts seized the nearest courtier. The pretty girl, not much older than Alice, squealed in fear, dropping to her knees with her ruler's pudgy fingers gripping her long, walnut locks. "This girl is of no consequence to me; there are dozens more like her waiting to take her place. But, you, my dear, have the look of someone that cherishes the lives of others. Are you steadfast enough to watch her die for your cause?"

"Don't!" Alice cried. The Suits caught her again, holding her back from interfering. She was terrified for the girl, whom she didn't even know, who probably didn't deserve her concern. She was also enraged that the Queen could be so soulless. The regality, the elegant deadliness of the monarch crumbled before the oyster's eyes, leaving only a small, horrible woman with too much power and too much greed. "If you kill her, if you kill _anyone_, I'll never tell you where the ring is. _Never._"

The Queen of Heart's bawdy red lips pursed in a mew of displeasure. After a moment, she cast the blubbering courtier aside and resettled the sword at her hip. Ever capricious, the monarch's violent rage subsided as though it were never there and she sounded bored with the entire situation. "Very well. What _are_ your demands?"

Alice blinked at her dumbly for a moment. Her demands? What were her demands? Oh! Of course. She shook off the confusion. "I want you to free the man I came here for, Jack Chase, and send us both home."

"I assume you'll only give up the ring's location when you're both safe and sound, then?"

Pulling her shoulders back and her chin up, Alice lied, "Yes. I'll tell you where it is."

"Very well," the Queen sighed, waving a hand at the smaller club. "Number nine, go fetch this Jack Chase."

The club stuttered, "But ma'am-"

"Do as your told," the Queen ordered firmly. The little man jumped as if hit with a switch and scurried to the door, black robe flapping behind him. The doors opened and the Queen smiled at Alice like a cat who'd cornered a mouse.

"What a coincidence. It appears Jack Chase was waiting just outside the door. I wonder why," she crooned snidely.

Alice whirled and there, not five feet away and apparently unharmed was Jack. Her Jack. She gasped his name and, forgetting the Queen and rest of the court, ran to her lover and threw her arms around him. He was alive, he was here, he was… not hugging her back. She loosened her grip, looking up into his eyes, a duller green in this lighting than they had been the last time she saw him. There was more that wasn't the same. His hair, that lovely chestnut hair had been bleached out to a near platinum blonde and, instead of constantly falling over his face, his bangs were slicked back securely, giving his hair and overall plasticy appearance. He wore a suit, now, far more formal than those he'd worn in the months she had known him; red and black, with a black tie over a white, ruffled shirt.

Looking up at the man in confusion, Alice touched his hair, his face, the suit. "Are you alright?" In her head it sounded like, _what happened to you?_

"I'm fine," he assured her in a strangely flat tone. "What are you doing here?" The question was so out of place, so wrong that she couldn't form an answer. The Queen supplied one for her.

"We found her running around the forest all on her todd. So, I brought her here. I was very curious to see what sort of tart my son has been hanging around with these days."

It sounded like a bomb went off in her head at those last words. Son? My son? _Her _son? Alice gawked up at Jack, _her_ Jack. The Queen of Hearts' Jack? "You're her son?" Jack had never been easy to read but, just now, in the way his eyes slid away from hers, the way his jaw tightened, the way he leaned away from her ever so slightly, Alice could see that he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"His real name is Jack Heart," the Queen informed her, using the truth as her sword now. "He lied to you about that, too." Lied. That was the word. Jack had lied to her and done it so well she hadn't a clue.

"Mother," Jack began, obviously unhappy with the tone of the conversation. He'd called her mother. He was her son. Jack Heart, from Wonderland.

"Don't 'Mother' me, you odious quisling," his mother - _his mother_- retorted. "Your girlfriend-" the word another slash with her verbal blade "-has hidden the Stone of Wonderland out there in the bushes somewhere."

"She's not my girlfriend," Jack protested without emotion. He caught her chin and tilted it to the side slightly, eyes moving over the cut on her neck with no more than idle curiosity. "She's nothing to me."

"Jack!" Alice pulled from his touch, gasping his name only because she couldn't make her brain and mouth connect properly. How could he say such a thing? How could he _lie_? But, he'd been lying all along, hadn't he? Lying to her about everything.

"Why, then, did you give her my ring?" The Queen demanded of her son, more irritated than angry. Jack frowned in annoyance.

"As I've said a thousand times, I didn't _give_ it to her, she took it." Now he was lying to his mother, too? Was the man incapable of telling the truth? He looked down at Alice again and smiled. He smiled while lies spilled from his lips like rain. "She was an affair, that's all. Someone to pass the time with while I explored her world. I took the ring so as to be certain I had the power to return. Little did I know she'd go through my things while I slept."

_But you _gave_ it to me!_ She almost shouted at him. Almost punched him dead in the face. They both knew he'd given it to her, so why was he lying now? Obviously, he didn't want his mother to know he had given her the ring freely. And hadn't he been dragged back to Wonderland forcibly by the White Rabbit? That wasn't a lie, she had seen it with her own eyes, followed the man through the Looking Glass.

"Alice," Jack said, drawing her from her thoughts. "Tell us where you hid the ring." She only stared at him._ I can't tell you._ She'd already closed that door forever. "I didn't ask you to come here," he said. Another lie. He certainly had asked her to come with him to his home and Wonderland _was_ his home. Why would he even mention that? There was no way his mother would know about his invitation.

No, only Alice would know. Only she and Jack. Now, she understood. He was trying to tell her something. That he was on her side? She didn't know. He went on, "I certainly didn't ask you to hide the ring, so, come on. Tell everyone where it is." His eyes flicked from her own towards his mother and back and she knew that had some meaning as well. His mother. The ring. Her demands.

"No," she shook her head. "I won't tell anyone where it is, until after I'm home. Out of Wonderland."

This seemed to be just what Jack wanted to hear. He smiled and a chill went through her because, dear God, it reminded her of his mother's. "Perhaps that's not such a bad idea," he said, turning from her to the Queen. "If I take her home, you'll be sure to get it back."

The Queen weighed his suggestion, but shook her head with a false air of regret. "Brilliant, but the only little niggle is, I wouldn't trust you if you told me the sun was round."

She walked away from her son to stand before the door, just ahead of the king, who said, "Sadly, we've had to shut the Looking Glass altogether, now."

"I'm sure we can win over the lovely girl without going all the way back to smelly old home, sweet home," the Queen of Hearts proclaimed. As if on cue, the doors swung open again, revealing a statuesque blonde woman, scantily clad in a gold dress, cut away to show as much of her torso as possible and still get a PG rating. "Ah, look who's here," the Queen remarked, sounding very pleased. The blonde sauntered into the room, hips swaying like a character out of a noir detective film. _She had gams that just wouldn't quit; if I was lucky, they might take some overtime._ "Duchess."

"Majesty," the gold clad beauty cooed in a throaty voice to match her hips, dipping down in a curtsy that belonged on pay per view. The king meowed under his breath, the creepy old lech.

"Jack," the Queen admonished. "Have you nothing to say to your fiancé?"

Another explosion between Alice's ears and she didn't even notice the walking, breathing Barbie doll circling her. "What?" Lying about a ring and who gave who what was one thing, but a fiancé was something else entirely. Jack had made love to her, to Alice, while engaged to another woman? Even covered in sweat and dirt and Jabberwock blood, Alice had not felt so soiled.

"Don't tell me Jack forgot to mention his _life long_ love," the Queen exclaimed breathily in heavily mocking disbelief. "His wildly romantic engagement and upcoming wedding."

Her view of the Queen was blocked by a bodice of shining gold as the Duchess slipped between them. She gazed down at Alice as though she were an exhibit of foreign culture in a museum, curious and slightly perplexing. "So, this is…"

"I'm afraid so," the Queen affirmed displeasedly. The long, perfectly manicured and painted nail tipped fingers of the Duchess came under Alice's chin, tilting her head up so she could inspect her face. The girl turned away sharply, cheeks flushed brightly in anger and betrayal and the discomfort of being looked over like an insect in a glass case.

"Really? I'm starting to wonder about your taste, Jack. I mean, if you think _she's _pretty, what must you think of me?" the blonde remarked, curling a lock of Alice's dark hair between her fingers. She'd had enough of this touchy feely crap and slapped the other woman's hand away. She'd have knocked her flat on her ass if it wouldn't have risked the Queen's fickle temper and gotten her beheaded.

"He thinks you're the most gorgeous creature in the world," the Queen assured her in an incredibly insincere, bored tone. "That's why he's marrying you."

The Duchess moved away, curling herself around Jack like a mink stole and the girl had to make a physical effort not to attack them both, as both somehow equally garnered her wrath. The anger was easy to deal with, the pain lancing through her chest was quite another story. Seeing Jack and the Duchess there, Alice was struck by how right they looked together. Particularly because of Jack's new look. Barbie and Ken.

"You see, Alice, my dear, Jack has been engaged for months, now. His flight through the Looking Glass was merely a diversion. A stag spree. A wave good-bye to his mischievous youth." The Queen's manner turned from cruel mocking to cold fury as she stepped closer to her prisoner. "You're going to tell us where you hid the ring and then you're going to wish you had never laid eyes on my son."

What the Queen of Hearts didn't know was that Alice was already well on her way to that point.

"Well, I'd better run," Jack suddenly piped, extricating himself from his fiancé's grasp. He took Alice's hands, pulling her away from his mother as though they were old friends parting on good terms. "Good-bye Alice. I forgive you for taking the ring." If he hadn't been holding her hands, she'd have decked him right there and not felt an ounce of remorse regardless of the outcome. Then, something cooly metallic was pressed against her palm. Jack closed her fingers around it as he continued to speak. "I know you're upset with me and I don't blame you." Alice didn't bother looking at his face, knowing she would not find any information there. The man was a closed book. He leaned in and kissed her temple softly, hissing in the barest whisper. "He's here."

He's here? What did that mean? Panic flooded her and for a moment all she could think was that they'd found Hatter. They'd somehow followed her trail back to the Kingdom of the Knights and Hatter had been captured and was locked up somewhere in the Royal airship. Reason took over after that horrible moment. No, they wouldn't have done that. Not that her trail had been particularly stealthy, but none of the Suits that caught her had stayed behind, not even Mad March. And the fact that they'd caught her cohort wouldn't have been a secret, the Queen would certainly have used it to her advantage in trying to make Alice talk. Then what could he mean by it?

Jack stepped away from her then. "Good-bye." He turned and walked away, head high, a content smile on his face. "Duchess," he said, offering the woman his hand. Arm in arm, Jack - her Jack - walked away with another woman and left Alice there to face his mother alone.

As for his mother she waved to her Suits again, commanding, "Take her to the Truth Room." Then, she turned away, apparently having lost all interest in the oyster. The tall club nodded.

"Yes, mum." He motioned to the Aces and Alice was led from the chamber. The Truth Room. That did not bode well. She could only imagine what kinds of torture they'd come up with in a place like Wonderland. She was marched down more of the red and white hallways, until her imposed entourage came to a halt before what looked like elevator doors. But the doors didn't open; they all just stood there, staring at them. Was there a waiting list for the Truth Room or something?

"_Now arriving at Happy Hearts Casino," _a tinny voice announced from nowhere. There must be a hidden intercom system, Alice reasoned blankly. She couldn't think for all the thoughts swirling in her head. Like a flock of birds all trying to land on the same little tree, there were far too many, so none could manage to light on a branch long enough to settle. "_Lift will be operational in ten minutes._"

So, they were waiting for the lift? That meant the Truth Room was in the casino. So, she had a ten minute stay of… well, not execution, but what she was in store for could very well be a step down from there. Alice glanced at her guards. No one was looking at her, all the men kept their eyes straight ahead like automatons. She risked opening her hand to see what Jack had found so important as to risk secretly slipping it to her in open view of his mother and a room full of onlookers.

A watch. A man's watch. She stared at it in disbelief. It was a nice watch, sure, though hopelessly out of style by today's standards. Serviceable, her mother would have said. But, still, just a watch. The thing didn't even work, stuck just after four o'clock, the little date marker stopped on the twenty-third of March. _He's here._ Jack's whisper hissed in her ear all over again and her mind snapped to full clarity. She knew why a watch. She knew what watch, or more accurately, knew _who's_ watch. She flipped the bit of metal and glass over, looking at the back of the mechanism and there, engraved on the mirror finish, were two letters.

R.H. Robert Hamilton. Her father was alive. Her father was in the casino.

* * *

**In case you're wondering why the airship, it just struck me as weird that the Queen of Hearts would be living at the casino. It's little more than an emotion tea factory and I couldn't jive with someone as full of herself as the Queen deigning to even stay there. Just my opinion.**


	9. The View from Up Here is Killer

**Ah, yes, the Truth Room. This should be fun, eh? And yes, I took quite a few liberties with this bit. I hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

"_Lift operational_," the tinny voice announced, bringing Alice back to the here and now. Ten minutes had passed in a flash as she turned the watch over and over in her fingers. It was almost like holding a piece of her father in her hands (which is less creepy if you don't think about that sentence in the literal sense.). The tall club, who she assumed was Number Ten if the little guy had been Nine, pressed the button to call the lift. She put the watch on, having no pockets in her dress. The thing was heavy and warm from her hands, but so loose she had to push it halfway up her forearm before it was even somewhat secure.

A dull clanking reminiscent of every elevator she'd ever been in preceded the lift doors opening. It was dark inside the car, the only light coming from a single, dim bulb set into the ceiling. The space was too small for her entire entourage, so only Alice, Number Ten and two of the Aces actually got in. The doors slid closed again. Light suddenly flooded the compartment and it took Alice only a moment to realize it was coming from below and not above. Then she made the mistake of looking down.

The car had no floor. Well, that wasn't true, the car must have a floor; they were standing on it. The bottom of the car was clear and all Alice could see below her was open air and the ground a million miles away. The car dropped, not sharply, but faster than she would have been entirely comfortable with even in a normal elevator. The whole thing was clear, save for a large heart that had been frosted on the sliding doors. Her vision tunneled out, threatening to go black entirely. She would have screamed if she had been able to get any sound out, but her throat had closed off entirely. No air in, no air out. The girl's knees gave and she would have gone down, but Number Ten caught her with a single, ridiculously strong hand curled around the back of her neck. The pad of his thumb pressed firmly against the nub of bone just behind her ear, stimulating the bundle of nerves there and keeping her from passing out altogether.

As the building rose up to meet them, Alice was certain the glass enclosure would be smashed to bits on roof of the casino. Instead the machine followed its framing, as it was meant to, and slipped easily into the waiting shaft. The roof closed over their heads as the car quickly slowed to a gentle stop, leaving the quartet with only the soft illumination of the weak bulb once more. Alice was quietly hyperventilating, but dim light seemed to help her regain her faculties. Perhaps that was intentional. She couldn't be the only person in Wonderland who was disturbed by the amusement park ride like elevator. Number Ten released her when a soft _ding!_ proclaimed their arrival.

With a hiss, the doors slid apart, opening onto a little lobby area flanked on either side by banks of regular elevators. The casino was stark, like the royal airship had been, but all done in light grey stone and red art deco furnishings and décor. A potted plant here and there tried valiantly to break up the cold, too modern environment, but ultimately failed. The casino workers moved through the halls, all going about their daily business. Most were women, pretty women, and all wore uniforms (if you could call a minidress a uniform) of sparkly red diamonds over white.

Occasionally, Alice was marched passed a large set of double doors with a plaque set into the wall beside them. These must be the rooms where emotions were collected, she reasoned as she went by Peace, Adoration, and what she had no doubt was Lust given the sounds coming from within as a rather flushed, disheveled diamond woman slipped out the door. _Wow._

They made there way to a small reception area where a woman sat behind the large, half moon desk. Like any receptionist worth her salt, the cocoa-skinned woman, who's name plate identified her as Shaquella, didn't even look up as the group approached.

"Oyster Hamilton for the Truth Room," Number Ten announced. Shaquella didn't even bat an eyelash. She just pointed one too long, red nail to her left. Apparently, her world and Wonderland weren't so different after all, Alice mused as she was led away.

Ten led them through a set of those grand double doors, the plaque reading: Excitement, Eagerness, and Anticipation. Apparently a short cut to their destination, this was the first part of the casino that actually looked like a casino. There were roulette wheels, craps and blackjack tables, and various other gambling staples. All the games were presided over by a diamond woman and surrounded by dazed and transfixed oysters. There were platforms with glass go-go booths and a stage where feather plumed showgirls danced to lounge music. None of the oysters spoke and, passing by a table where everyone's cards came up blackjack, she saw their skin flush pink as they smiled widely at winning. The blush flowed down like water in a pipe, through their bare feet and into the floor. So, that's what it looked like when you stole someone's emotions.

Out through another pair of doors at the far end of the room, they continued on. The Aces fell back as Ten took her arm, guiding her through a strangely simple doorway; just an average wooden door, the kind you might find in any home or Home Depot. It was entirely out of place in a building like the Happy Hearts Casino.

As the door closed behind them, the girl felt like she had stepped into an acid trip. All around her were swirling and shifting black and white circles, something an arch villain would use to hypnotize a hero. Alice wasn't sure which way was up, the floor blended with the walls, which blended with the ceiling. She briefly wondered if she was laying down, as ridiculous as that sounds. So distracted by her surroundings, she didn't notice when Ten left or when her new hosts arrived, until they spoke.

"I know what you're thinking," came a voice straight out of Frankenstein. But, when Alice whirled towards the speaking, she wasn't faced with Igor. _Fucking Christ, it's Pinhead!_ And the resemblance was uncanny. Leather S&M outfit with unnecessary buckles and laces, paper white and bloodless skin, bald head - though lacking the requisite pins to complete the ensemble. She fell back from the man, the _two_ men. Or was it two of the same man? "But it isn't so, no how," he insisted.

"Contrary wise," the second him spoke up in the same hissing, whiney, too solicitous voice as the first. "If it was so, it could be and if it were so, it would be, but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic." He seemed pleased with his reasoning, though she had no idea what the Hell either of them were talking about.

"I am Doctor Dee," the first spoke up, motioning to himself. Then, with a gesture to the second, "And this is my brother…"

"Doctor Dum," the other finished.

Oh god. Bald, chubby twins; there could be no doubt who they were. It was fitting that the Queen would have put these two freaks in charge of getting answers out of people. Alice backed away, but how could she escape? She didn't even know where the fucking door was anymore!

"Our job is to open you up, pull everything out…" Dee explained. The girl's skin was ice as she took his words literally.

"Until we find the very thing we're looking for," Dum finished his brother's sentence again. They both laughed with sinisterly eager glee. No, no, no! She had to get out of there.

"_Relax_," the two spoke in unison. Relax? Were they insane? … yes, obviously. But, their voices were so persuasive. "_Let your mind go. Allow yourself to fall into a deep sleep._" And she was still so tired. Exhausted. Her eyes slipped closed.

Alice opened her eyes to find she was in an elevator, gray steel walls all around her, a little LED screen perched above the doors displaying the floor number as she rode up and up and up. Well, of course she was in an elevator, how else was she supposed to get to the observation deck? Duh. But, something was wrong. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

"How old are you?" a voice asked from the speaker system. The LED box shifted from the floor number - 60 - to the face of a bald, pudgy old man.

"Ten," the girl answered, somehow not finding it odd at all that the elevator had suddenly become sentient.

"Where are you?"

"The Empire State Building," she smiled widely, bubbling with eager excitement.

"But you're alone," the elevator remarked, surprised. Her smile vanished. That's what had been wrong. She was alone in the elevator. "Why have you been left all alone?"

Frowning in confusion and unease, Alice looked around the small cube as though it would produce her answer. "I don't know. Dad was here a minute ago," she insisted with growing alarm.

"Did he say, 'good-bye'?"

"No." Her bottom lip trembled as a child's tears of fear filled her eyes. "I don't was _right here!_"

The elevator stopped and the door slid open with a cheery _ding!_ Before her was a marble floored room, all lined with windows looking out onto the observation area, with its steel webbing and safety bars, and beyond to a vast cityscape.

"Why don't you see if he's out there?" the elevator suggested helpfully. The girl lifted her foot to step out, but stopped.

"No, I can't," she said, wringing her hands together fretfully.

"Why not?"

She didn't know why not. Something inside was holding her back, there was something very bad out there. "I… I have to wait for Dad," she insisted, not wanting to admit she was scared.

"Nonsense," the elevator replied, coaxingly. "He'll be along shortly."

Alice chewed her lip, really not wanting to go out there. But, there was no reason not to, there was nothing to be afraid of, after all. She stepped out of the elevator. _SHUNK!_ The doors shut behind her. She spun back, pounding her hands on the cold steel, no longer a worried child, but a terrified adult. The scene had shifted around her and instead of being safely inside the observatory, the elevator had let her out directly onto the deck. It was like her worst nightmares of that day, the day her father vanished. Gone were the high walls and safety precautions, only an iron railing separated her from certain death. Most of the city was gone - it and the sky had been replaced by swirling orange and purple nothingness - and what little remained was far, far below her now.

A humming drone filled the air, followed by the voices of Drs. Dee and Dum, still in unison. "Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall." Looking over her shoulder she saw the twins, zipping idly around the tower on huge, fat bumblebees, both men wearing ridiculous aviator's goggles and scarves. "All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again."

"Now's time for a battle," one of them said, Dee or Dum she no longer knew. Alice turned, pressing her back flat against the elevator doors, but instead found herself facing them and her back meeting nothing but open air. Her arms flailed, desperately seeking purchase, but the railing had vanished and she was near to teetering right off the ledge.

"Let's see if we can find a little lever," the other brother suggested to his twin. "And prize the tasty oyster open."

Alice caught sight of salvation. More or less. Just to her left stood one of the old time pay viewers, the kind you had to put a quarter in for them to work. She practically dove for it, sinking to the ground and wrapping her arms around the pole.

"Well, now," a bee whizzed over her head, the wind from its wings ruffling her hair. "Looks like Daddy left you with a fear of heights."

"This is promising." A loud crack split the air followed by a horrible, deep rumbling and the building began to fall away brick by brick and then in huge chunks until all that was left was the elevator shaft and Alice's viewer. As the ground gave way under her, the girl stood on the foot bar - there so children and short people like herself could reach the binoculars. The only thing holding her up now was the pole to the device, which stretched impossibly long down into the rubble of the building and rocked sickeningly a few inches this way, a few more that.

"No! Oh, God, please!" She pleaded, shaking all over and sweating profusely. This couldn't be happening! It couldn't be… no, it couldn't be happening, could it? Orange and purple skies and giant bumble bees? The Truth Room must be some kind of hologram. The Tweedles got into your head and used your worst fears against you, but it wasn't real. "It's not real," she said to herself, out loud to give the words more weight. The ground hadn't really fallen away. She was still perfectly safe in a room in the casino. Alright, not perfectly safe, but not in danger of falling half a mile to her death.

She pried her fingers off the metal mounting. Okay, all she had to do was step down and her foot would meet solid ground. No problem. She stepped off the bar and fell. The shock of the fall, when she had been so certain there wouldn't be one, was twice as bad as if she had simply fallen. That was Wonderland logic that flitted through her head as she dropped with a shriek. Twisting in mid-fall, she grabbed for the bar, struggling to get a secure grip on the thin iron ring.

"It's real!" she yelped to her captors.

One of them directed his insect mount to hover beside her. "Of course, it's real," he said with contempt at her stupidity in assuming otherwise.

"But I'll die!" the girl screeched.

"Undoubtedly," the other man agreed, still zooming in slow circles above, popping the large bubbles that floated up from below.

"But the ring!" she protested. Both men shrugged.

"It's not our ring," the one nearest her said uncaringly.

His brother agreed, "We don't care."

"Besides, this is much more fun," the first added with glee.

"You're crazy!" Alice squeaked. They were supposed to get information out of her, not just kill her off!

"Clinically insane," the circling Tweedle confirmed, pulling his bee up into a loop-de-loop. Of course they were, they were Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. Insanity was kind of their selling point. Her heart was racing a million beats per minute and, though she panted heavily, she couldn't get any oxygen. After a few abjectly petrifying seconds that felt like hours, days, Alice managed to haul herself up, sitting her butt on the foot bar, arms and legs wrapped around the pole.

"Ah! She's back up!" The closer man zipped away. Apparently, Alice wasn't the only one happy to keep her existence going a little longer, but she doubted the good doctor was pleased for the same reason.

"If you kill me, the Queen won't get her ring," she reminded them, fear and desperation driving her voice up several octaves.

"So, tell us where it is," coming out of his loop, the other twin dive-bombed straight for her, pulling up at the last second.

"Not until you get me the fuck out of here," the girl countered. The men snorted.

"If you don't tell us, we may as well kill you," said one.

"And then we'll just have to tell the Queen it was an accident," the other added.

"It happens all the time."

"But this is different," she insisted, trying to get through to them. "If you mess up, she'll kill you."

"Again?" The single word stopped her heart altogether. Mad March had been beheaded a year before, hadn't he? But there he was, running around with a ceramic bunny head. Death didn't necessarily mean the end in Wonderland, not if the Queen decided she liked having you around enough.

"The pole is holding her up," this twin was slowly circling below Alice.

"So it is," the other mused. "What would happen if it disappeared, I wonder?"

Alice gasped as the paint began to flake off the metal pillar. Rust bubbled up from underneath with a soft sizzling sound. The post groaned and started to shiver as it began to lose integrity. With a shriek of metal, the viewer broke loose of its mount, missing Alice by a thread as it fell passed her and down forever.

"Alright! I'll tell you!" she screamed.

"Be quick about it," the man nearest her snapped impatiently.

His partner chimed in, "It has a mind of its own."

"I have to write it down," she lied, trying anything to get them to put her on solid ground again. When they looked dubious, she added. "It's complicated; I need to draw a map."

"A map?" Tweedle Whichever asked, his bee turning upside-down as he peered at her.

"It's the only way to find it," she persisted. The man sighed.

"Oh, ho hum, very well. If you _must_." "Very well" were suddenly the most wonderful words in the English language. Until a desk appeared before her out of nowhere. No! Dammit, they were supposed to put her back on terra firma! Fuck! But, she had to keep up the game or else they'd drop her. Her whole body was shaking and it took every ounce of self control for her to let go of the post with even one hand, but she did it. Worried she would drop the pen the provided, Alice put it to the paper with no idea of what she was going to write.

Any place would do, really, but somewhere difficult to get to would be best. Once she gave up the location, the Queen would keep her locked up while she had her Suits retrieve the ring. The woman was no fool, she wouldn't dispose of her captive before she was absolutely certain to have no further use for the girl. On the other hand, that entire scenario was dependent upon the twin "doctors" not just letting her fall once she finished writing it out.

Then, a flash of brilliance. A way to get her out of the room and back in her world all in one fell swoop. Foregoing the lie about drawing a map, Alice began to write. _Safety deposit box 248, Empire National Bank, 51__st__ street, New York City, New York._ If the Queen wanted her ring back, she'd have to bring Alice to that bank to do it, as only she would be granted access. Or so the girl would say. Once in the bank, she could scream her head off for help. Again, this all depended on the reasonableness of the twins.

She was as good as dead, Alice realized. Nothing would stop the two from having their fun, no matter what she told them. Her shaking intensified and her eyes teared up. All she could think about was the fall to come, all the time she would have on the way down to think about what it felt like to have every bone in your body broken at once.

_SHUNK!_ "Whoa!" Her head snapped up so fast the girl cracked her temple on the rusting post.

"Hatter!" she cried, near faint with joy. She had never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life.

"Who's that?" a twin demanded from top his bee.

"Go away!" the other ordered, incensed at having his play interrupted. "This is a private session."

Her savior pushed the elevator doors wide, holding on with one hand and extending the other to the girl. "Jump," he commanded.

Alice scrambled onto the desk and stood on trembling legs. Jump, he said. A simple enough directive, especially with only a few feet between them, yet those few feet may as well have been the Grand Canyon so far as she was concerned.

"Get rid of him!" one brother shouted to the other, making a pass at Hatter on his bumblebee.

She couldn't do it. There was no way. But, she had to, or she would die. Closing her eyes, the girl held her breath and leapt, trusting Hatter to catch her. He did. With an "oof", he took the impact of her landing, wrapping his arms securely around her and falling back into the elevator.

"Alice," the man said from beneath her. He caught her face in his hands, looking into her eyes worriedly. "You okay?"

She could only nod, unable to speak just yet. The bees were too large to enter the elevator car, so the twins could only zoom back and forth before the door in impotent outrage.

"Sound the alarm! Call the guards!" they yelled. Charlie was in the elevator too, moaning and murmuring to himself as he ran his hands over the flat steel walls, seemingly searching for something.

"How did you find me?"

Hatter shook his head and released her, spreading his hands in mutual bewilderment. "I dunno. Ask Charlie."

"Believe it or not," the paladin said calmly, not looking from his task. "We're in your head." She believed it. The question is, how would they get _out_ of her head?

"You'll not get away so easy!" hollered a Tweedle. The car suddenly dropped. Alice screamed as a horrible feeling of weightlessness flooded her. Hatter's arms came around her again.

"Charlie!" he shouted. "Hurry up!"

The old man, however, was completely unphased by their shrieking descent. Wind whipped around the open elevator as they fell impossibly fast to earth, the rubble which was all that remained of the building growing ever closer. Then, a muted click and a section of the wall swung open. Hatter scrambled to his feet, pulling Alice up with him.

Charlie stood aside, politely waving the others through first. He victoriously proclaimed, "Sanctus deo!" Whatever that meant. Not two steps into the hall, a massive crash thundered from inside the room, a cloud of dust billowing out through the doorway.

"Come on." Hatter grabbed her hand and they were off and running. Alice's legs were still a bit shaky, but she managed to keep up well enough with his long legged stride. Charlie brought up the rear, clanking and clattering his way down the hall behind them. Her rescuer seemed to know where he was going and led the trio to a stairway that brought them, finally, to the ground floor. They rushed across the lobby, the main entrance and freedom beyond in their sights. Unfortunately, between them and the exit was a small army of Suits, at least twenty of them.

"Bollocks!" Hatter barked, skidding to a stop. They turned to go back, but more suits had followed them down the stairs.

"This way!" Charlie directed, rushing towards an elevator that had just unloaded. The other two followed after, just barely making it inside before the doors slid shut. They could hear the Suits banging on the doors and shouting. Hatter jabbed the button for the roof and the elevator rose, the commotion outside fading away to be replaced by soft musak.

"Up? Why up?" Alice demanded. Like she hadn't have enough of elevators and going up today? Hatter balked at the question.

"Do we have a choice?" Of course, they didn't. From the ground floor there was nowhere to go but up, unfortunately.

"Alice of Legend," Charlie suddenly began grandly. "You're presence in this world is no accident. You ware here for a reason."

Not this again. "God, Charlie, no. It's just _plain_ Alice," she insisted. She certainly wasn't any legend.

"Justplainalice,-" Son of a bitch. "-I shall stand at your side. Shoulder to shoulder. Knee to-"

"Charlie!" Hatter interjected, trying to stop the knight's incessant yammering.

"-wobbly knee," the old man finished his thought anyway.

"Now's not such a good time," the younger implored. Now that she was on relatively stable footing and, for the moment, not being chased by men with guns, Alice had a chance to think straight.

"You shouldn't have come after me!" she told the men sharply. Hadn't she left them behind specifically so they wouldn't get caught back up in this whole mess? "You could get yourselves killed!"

"Did you give the ring up, Alice?" Hatter asked, ignoring her reproof. Shit. That's what it was about. They hadn't found the ring and thought she still had it. Apparently, her hiding place was a bit better than she'd intended.

"You think I'd still be alive if I had?" she retorted. "I'm not stupid, Hatter." Yet, all signs point to the contrary. "I had everything under control."

He was nice enough not to point out what a load of crap that last bit was. "You tried to cut a deal with the Queen didn't you?"

Yes. And it failed miserably, but the way he acted like she was an idiot rankled hard. "I was getting close," she insisted defensively.

"Getting close?" his voice actually cracked, so great was his incredulity at her statement. "Maybe I'm wrong, but negotiations didn't appear to be going so well."

"I just needed a little more time," Alice protested. Which was true, to an extent, if her plan had worked.

"For what?" The man demanded, growing angry at her persistent naivety. "You really think the Queen is just gonna send you and your boyfriend home?"

"No," she admitted unhappily, all that had happened in the throne room rushing back full force.

"No, of course not," Hatter insisted, but she cut him off before he could berate her any more.

"Because he's her son."

The man stopped, obviously unsure of what he'd just heard. His voice was almost a normal volume when he inquired, "The prince?" She nodded miserably. "Jack Heart?" He tried again, apparently to make entirely sure they were talking about the same person. When she looked away, his voice rose again. "Jack Heart is your _boyfriend?!_"

She looked up at him, opening her mouth to tell him she was sorry, so sorry for getting him mixed up in this, all over a man who didn't even need rescuing. But the elevator stopped and the doors parted, drawing the attention of two Suits standing guard on the roof.

"Oh no," Charlie lamented softly. With a last glance at her, Hatter stepped from the elevator and made a beeline for one of the two Suits. The other came after Alice. Charlie stepped between them, waving her back. "Behind me, Alice."

She would have left the knight to deal with his opponent then, because Hatter was on the losing end of his own fight, but when Charlie went to draw his sword, the old blade stuck. He tried in vain to unsheathe the weapon until the Suit decked him, knocking the old man to the ground. _Bastard,_ Alice thought angrily, protective of the elderly knight. She squared off with the Suit, an Ace. The man swung a fist at her, which she evaded easily, thrusting her forearm against his throat. He choked and staggered back, leaving his whole body open to attack. Alice wasn't about to let such an generous offering go to waste. She landed a wicked blow to his kidney, throwing a follow up punch to his stomach when he arched back in agony. As he jackknifed forward again, the she brought up her knee, bloodying the man's mouth and dropping him to the ground.

With her Ace reasonably incapacitated, Alice turned to rush to aide Hatter, who was being choked, bent back over the stone wall of the ledge, but he didn't need her. She'd dispatched her attacker just in time to see the former Tea Shop owner slam his fist into the ribs of his assailant. The Ace grunted and Hatter slipped from his hold, smashing the man's face into the stone. As Alice watched, he wiped his bloody lip and retrieved his fallen hat, then turned back to the man who was blinking dazedly. Yes, Hatter had a flair for the dramatic and it seemed it translated into everything he did. Held his hat in his right hand and flicked his wrist, sending the thing spinning upwards to be caught by his raised left. Then, punched the Ace dead in the face with what Owl had referred to as his sledgehammer. The man dropped like a stone, nose and mouth bleeding profusely, jaw at an odd angle and at least one tooth missing.

"Shit on a stick," Alice breathed, reverting to her foulmouthed youth for a moment. She was so focused on Hatter that the girl didn't notice her own fallen Ace beginning to rise. Charlie seized the opportunity to regain a bit of his lost pride from the stuck sword incident. He strode up to the kneeling man.

"Bow to the hand of Diocles," he commanded, catching Alice's attention. He then knocked the man on top of his head with a closed fist. The Ace flopped back to the ground once more.

"What now?" Alice asked her liberators. They were still stuck on a roof with an army of Suits after them. The Queen's airship loomed menacingly overhead. Hatter didn't seem to have an answer until he looked around and his eyes fell on a trio of pink vehicles of some kind.

"We get on one of those," he said and headed for them. Charlie and Alice followed. The old knight simpered in glee over the contraption, but Alice didn't get it. It looked like a hot pink jet ski… with a flamingo head?

"Articulated birds of the Empyrean," the White Knight exclaimed. "What genius!"

"Get on," Hatter instructed, going back to the fallen Aces to grab up their sunglasses. Alice put two and two together.

"Wait, these things _fly_?"

Coming back, the younger man handed Charlie one of the pairs of glasses. The paladin accepted them joyously and mounted his own pink nightmare. As he got on another, Hatter told her, "We don't have time to think, Alice, just get on."

She never moved. "No, no, no. I'm not getting on that."

"You don't have another choice," he insisted. He pushed the sunglasses at her. "Here, you'll need these."

She shoved his hand back. "No, you don't understand. I can't fly that thing."

"Fine, get on with me then." As though that was the problem. "I'll do the flying, all you have to do is hold on."

"I'm _not_ getting on that _death trap_."

Hatter scoffed. "It's perfectly safe!"

Alice scoffed right back. "It doesn't even have seatbelts!"

"Safe-ish," he amended. She stepped back, but he caught her forearm.

"I've got a thing about flying," the girl insisted even though she knew full well it was a stupid argument. It wasn't fair of him to save her from one terrifying situation just to force another version of the same thing onto her. Several loud pops came from down the roof and all three turned to find they were no longer alone, the Suits had caught up and were opening fire on them.

"Yeah? I've got a _thing_ about bullets," Hatter snarked pointedly. He was right, but she just couldn't- "Look at me." She did as he said, meeting those dark eyes. "I wouldn't let you do it, if I didn't think you'd be okay."

And just like that, she got on the machine behind him. She knew he wouldn't let her do something stupid and dangerous. She trusted him. Hatter put on the sunglasses and… stopped.

"How do you get it to fly," Charlie pondered.

"You don't know how to fly it?!" Alice demanded. So much for trusting him.

"Of course, I do!" her pilot insisted. He had been in the Royal Guard after all. "It's just been a while." _Fuck me, sideways._ "Red button."

The knight punched said button on the back of the flamingo head and took off like a shot, zipping away into the sky towards the city. Her eyes rounded. "That's _fast_." Not that she minded going fast, particularly, just when it was done on a flying skidoo a thousand feet off the ground.

"Oh yeah," the man agreed. "Hold on."

She snatched the hat off his head, knowing it would blow away if someone didn't hold onto it, and wrapped her arms around him, holding on for dear life as he pressed the button and they zoomed away after Charlie.

"Alice! Alice! Stop screaming!"

She hadn't even realized she was doing it, but stopped. Hatter grunted, shifting on the seat. "Stop moving!" Alice shouted at him.

"You're crushing my ribs," he informed her. Miraculously, the girl managed to loosen her grip just a little, enough that he stopped squirming. Out of nowhere, he suddenly asked, "I suppose it's his lofty airs and graces, huh?"

"What?"

"Jack," he clarified. He wanted to talk about that _now_?!

"He doesn't have airs and graces," she insisted. It was half true, her Jack didn't have airs. The one she'd been so rudely introduced to in the throne room certainly had, though.

"Really?" Hatter retorted dubiously. "Well, what then?"

What the Hell was he asking her? Why she had fallen for Jack? "Are you _kidding_ me? Just shut your hole and keep your eyes on the sky!" she shouted. What an ass! She was so irritated, she forgot about her fear for a moment. Maybe that was his intent? Knowing Hatter, probably not.

"We are angels!" Charlie suddenly shouted, sounding very much like he was enjoying himself, the bastard. "The wind and clouds at our command! Oh, heavenly joy!" He leaned back, throwing one hand out in bliss, but that threw off the balance of his bird, startling him into resuming paying proper attention to his piloting. If she hadn't been so scared, Alice might have found it funny. But she was. With eyes squeezed shut tight, the girl pressed her face against Hatter's back, between his shoulder blades. If she didn't look, she could pretend they were just on a motorcycle or something, not on a minijet that sounded like a lawnmower.

A strange bursting sound made her look up once more, thinking Charlie had done something else foolish and broken his flamingo. But no, he was fine, the sound was coming from behind them. She looked back and moaned despondently.

"Aces," Hatter exclaimed. That's right, Aces. Two of them, gaining fast and shooting at the three escapees with some manner of modified twelve gauge. They were sitting ducks, to coin a phrase. No where to go and no weapons of their own. A loud ping stopped her heart and was followed up by a direct hit to Charlie's bird. Black smoke billowed from the engine as the vehicle dropped fast.

"I'm going doooooooown!" the knight yelled.

"Charlie!" Hatter shouted.

"No!" Alice reached for him, tilting the flamingo. Hatter struggled to correct the dip. It didn't matter. One more shot from the pursuing Aces and they were hit, as well. The bird shuddered horribly under her and the girl screamed again as they fell out of the sky.

It was her worst nightmare come true as the lake came rushing up to meet them. Regardless of how tightly she was holding Hatter, the second they hit the water, he was wrenched from her grasp. She might as well have hit solid rock. Alice tried to cry out, but water rushed eagerly into her mouth and nose, filling her lungs with cold death. She wanted to struggle, she wanted to fight, but she never had a chance. She sank down and down into the silent, black abyss.

* * *

**When the good doctor said "Your daddy left you with a fear of heights", I thought there was more to it than that. When there wasn's, I was bummed. So, I made my own reason. Hope you liked my tweaking of the Tweedles. I thought they needed to be a bit more ridiculous.**


	10. Haunted by the Past

**So, the much anticipated arguement chapter. It's not so different as you might expect, sorry. I did change it a bit, but I loved Hatter getting angry at Alice, so pretty much all of his yelling at her is still in there. I tried to justify her pigheadedness, though, so I hope you guys like what I did with the scene. The beach and Charlie's tale were my favorite parts of the movie, so its nice to have them both in the same Chapter. Hope you enoy it.**

* * *

"Alice? Come on, Alice!" Someone was calling her name, some one she really wanted to go to. It was so dark and warm here, so peaceful. If not for that person with the heavenly voice, she'd be perfectly content to stay right where she was. Even if she didn't know where she was.

"Open your eyes!" She wanted to, wonderful voice, but it was so hard. She just couldn't find the strength. Someone kissed her, but whoever it was wasn't very good at it. Or maybe it was because she couldn't kiss back? Whoever was to blame, it was a terrible kiss and made her feel like she was choking, suffocating. Drowning.

"Dammit, Alice, open your eyes and _look at me_!" The world rushed back in a cold burst of pain in her chest. Alice coughed, water sputtering up out of her mouth, some of which went right up her nose and down the back of her throat, defeating the entire purpose. "Oh, thank you," Hatter breathed in relief as she rolled to her side, spitting out half the lake. He rubbed her back and pulled the wet hair from her face, which was sweet, but did nothing to stop the clawing agony in her chest and throat. Soon, she was coughing up only air, which didn't feel any better, but was undeniably a good thing.

He shifted behind her and pulled her back. It wasn't until he had the girl resting half across his lap that she realized how hard and sharp the gravel shore of the beach was on her bare arms and legs. He fussed over her, brushing back hair that didn't need brushing back, running his fingers over the skin of her face, neck and shoulders. She was finally able to obey his command and open her eyes, looking up at him. It took a moment to focus properly. He looked so different. For one, the man was soaked. His hat was gone and, even wet, his hair ran wild, curling away from his head against the weight of the water. A couple of his long bangs hung almost into his eyes, though not quite. But it was his expression, the look on his face that had her taken aback. So much so, in fact, she had to reach up and touch it.

"Hatter…"

"That's right," he nodded, leaning his face into her touch just a bit. "You had me so scared. I thought I'd lost you for a second there."

She knew that already. She could see it in his eyes. "Sorry," she rasped, throat raw from coughing. He laughed at the absurdity of her apology.

"Not your fault," Hatter assured her. "Just bad luck." He spent a long moment just staring down at her as Alice breathed, trying to will the strength back into her limbs. She flexed her fingers only to find she was still holding onto his hat in a death grip. She lifted it to hand to him, which brought an incredulous smile to his bluish lips. Come to think of it, she was freezing. Along with that realization came the shivers she'd grown to hate so much the previous day. Two dunks in the lake in as many days? She was definitely going to catch a cold.

The man took his hat and set it aside, gazing down at her with a soft expression. "Are you okay?"

She snorted, though that hurt her nose. "No, I'm not okay, you ass."

He laughed again. "Right, stupid question. As much as I'd like to stay like this for the afternoon, it's not safe here. Do you think you can stand?"

She nodded, though she wasn't sure at all, and let him help her sit up. Once upright, she did feel a bit better. He got his feet under him and wrapped her arms around his neck, then stood, taking the majority of her weight on himself. After a tentative few seconds, Alice found her legs to be quite capable of supporting her. Her hands slid down to rest on his forearms, just at the crook of his elbows. Okay, so far so good. She then made the mistake of glancing out at the lake and the reality of what had just happened hit her. The crash could have broken her neck. She had gone under and blacked out and, if not for Hatter, she would have died.

"Whoa!" He caught her again as her knees gave out, pulling her against himself. "It's alright. It's over. I've got you." She leaned against him, wanting to cry but wasn't able. She hurt everywhere and felt so weak and he was so strong, so solid. "You're okay."

But she wasn't okay. She was far from okay. She was cold and hurt and in a world that wasn't her own. She was lost and scared. She was being hunted and shot at and putting her friends into the same deadly situations. She had been betrayed by the man she thought she could love. No, Mr. Hatter, Alice Hamilton was a damn sight away from okay.

She pulled away from him and at first he didn't let her go. "What's wrong?"

"You said we aren't safe," she responded. It wasn't a lie, it was what he said.

"Alice-"

"Oh God," she gasped, just remembering - and she was going straight to Hell for taking that long. "Charlie." Hatter released her then and she turned, looking up and down the rocky beach. "Do you see him?"

"He was wearing all that armor…"

She stared at him, not understanding, not letting herself understand. "We have to find him."

"Alice-"

"No!" she snapped, not allowing him to say what she feared. The White Knight had not survived the Queen of Hearts massacring his brothers in arms just so he could die crashing a fucking flamingo into a lake. No! She spun away from the man, heading down the beach, away from the tree line. Snatching up his hat, Hatter followed after her. She started calling the old paladin's name. She had to find him. "Charlie!"

"If he's made it, there should be some tracks," Hatter pointed out.

"It's gravel, you don't make tracks in gravel," she retorted shortly, not looking back at him. "Charlie!"

"We're sitting ducks on this beach," he insisted. It was true. If any of the Aces flew by, they would be easily spotted. She didn't care. Apparently working out that he wasn't going to get her off the beach unless he dragged her, Hatter decided to address more important matters, perhaps thinking it might remind her of the reality of their situation. "Where's the ring?" Bad choice.

The ring. The fucking ring. All anyone cared about was that stupid ring! Maybe Tolkien had visited Wonderland and that's where he'd been inspired to write his Middle Earth books. She wanted to melt the thing down, smash it to pieces, just destroy it in the most violent and permanent way possible.

"Safe." She said the single word to keep herself from just telling Hatter to go fuck himself.

"Where?" Oh, he was pushing his luck. She ground her teeth together and kept walking. "You still don't trust me after I just… I risked my neck getting you out of there!"

"Yeah? And why did you risk your neck?" It had nothing to do with trust. Just let's be real, man, it wasn't for _her_.

"Unbelievable!" he scoffed. "Why are you being so ungrateful?"

Okay, that stung a little, because it was true. She was being ungrateful, but it was justified, wasn't it? Being regarded as less important that a piece of jewelry was cause for a bad attitude, right? "Look, I don't blame you." She didn't. Didn't mean it didn't hurt. "You're people need you and that ring could make all the difference."

"Is that why you think I did this?" He asked, growing angry himself. "So that I could get my hands on the ring?"

She turned on him, furious. "Didn't you?"

"Of course, not!" He sounded insulted and a bit surprised she thought it of him. A little kernel of doubt formed in her mind, but she pushed it roughly aside.

"You telling me you don't want the ring anymore?"

He stopped, struggling for words. "That's not what… That's beside the point."

"That's what I thought," she started walking again.

"Alice-"

"Look. I know you won't just abandon me, so don't think that's it," she assured him. He was a man of his word, after all. She was angry, but she really did trust him, after a fashion. He would do everything in his power to get her home - whether it was what she wanted or not. "But I can't leave until I find my father."

"Your father?" She'd forgotten Hatter didn't know what Jack had told her, given her. The watch! Her hand flew to her arm, afraid she'd lost it in the water. But no, there it was, the metal a stark contrast to her skin. She turned back to face the man.

"He's here." Poor Hatter looked hopelessly lost.

"I don't understand."

She pulled the watch off, holding it before her like a talisman. "Jack slipped me his watch." She hurried back to him, flipping the timepiece over to show the engraving on the back. "See? R.H. Robert Hamilton." Then the front again. "It's stuck on the exact date he disappeared, March twenty-third. That's what happened to him. He's in the casino somewhere." The girl looked up, face alight with hope and happiness and what she saw in Hatter's eyes just about broke her.

"He's lying," he told her, flat out. She had to turn away from him. It wasn't a lie. It had to be true. "It's just a watch, Alice. It could be anybody's."

"I remember this watch," she insisted.

"Do you, really?" he challenged.

"Yes." But her voice gave away that she wasn't so sure. She thought she remembered it. She _knew_ she'd never told Jack about her father wearing a watch like this. "Jack took a big risk passing this to me," Alice said. The fact that he'd done so added credibility to his claim. He wouldn't have taken the chance at being caught unless it was of great importance.

"And you believe him?" Hatter asked, shocked by that fact.

"Why wouldn't I?" She knew why she wouldn't, why she shouldn't, but forced the truth down under the weight of her desire for it to not be so.

"Because he's lied to you about everything," the man voiced her own thought out loud, using it against her. The words sent a fresh spike of pain through her heart.

"He had his reasons." God, that sounded pathetic even to her, but she had to hold on to it. Had to believe that everything Jack had done could be explained. Jack Chase was a house of cards; if one fell, the whole thing toppled and her father was on the very top card.

"I'm stunned," Hatter declared. "Why are you even defending him?"

"Because he's trying to help me," Alice insisted.

"Really? Well, let's just think about that," he caught her in two strides and spun her to face him, eyes flashing as he spoke. "He took the ring from his mother, he gave it to you, why? It made you a target, Alice!"

"He didn't expect me to follow him." That much was definitely true. Wasn't it? Or was it? It had to be. "I screwed up bringing the ring here." Of course, he'd left the ring in her apartment, thinking it would be safe, and then she'd gone and brought it with her, almost landing it right back in the hands of the Queen. His mother.

"And he blames you for that?" Hatter asked in outrage.

"No!" She answered quickly. Too quickly, because hadn't he? Had he? She didn't know. It seemed like he might have. "Not exactly." She turned again, walking away from him. He was the voice in her head given form and free will and she couldn't silence him; her only option was escape. Or give up on Jack and, in doing so, give up on her father.

"Why's he even going around pretending to be someone else?" Hatter kept up with the hard questions she did not want to answer.

"He's hiding from them." It was the only explanation. Not the only explanation, but the only one she would allow herself to think of.

"Why?!" Hatter shouted the question.

Unable to take it anymore, Alice whirled on him again. "_I don't know!_" she cried. He backed off, just a bit, just enough to let her breathe. The way he was looking at her, she wanted to cry. Before she could stop herself, she told him the rest of the truth she had learned about Jack; her Jack. "He's engaged. To a Duchess."

Hatter nodded, completely unsurprised. "So, he's two-timing you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement of fact.

"I don't think it's like that," she said weakly. He was two-timing the _Duchess_ with her. And God, she felt weak and stupid. The look on Hatter's face made her ribs feel like they were cracking. He looked so _disappointed_ in her and it killed. It crushed her more than anything Jack had done, some how, that she had let him down.

"And now, all of a sudden, he tells you that your father has been in the casino all this time. Does that not seem a little bit fishy?"

"What do you mean?" But she knew what he meant. Knew before he even took the breath to say it.

"It's not a coincidence." And he was right. There was something going on with Jack that she didn't understand. And the reason she didn't understand it was because he had lied to her. Hatter was absolutely, unequivocally correct. And she still couldn't let it go. What did that say about her?

"_Heeeey, nonny, nonny…_" Alice blinked, thinking she must have gotten water logged or something. Maybe she had a concussion, because she was hearing things. "_The wind and the rain…"_

"Do you hear that?" Her heart leapt into her throat, afraid all that had happened that day had made her snap and her willingness to delude herself had taken on a life of its own.

"_The wind and the rain…"_ She spun towards where the singing was coming from and saw smoke curling up from beyond a bend in the shore.

"I don't believe it," Hatter said. It was all the confirmation Alice needed. She was off and running almost before he finished the sentence. Only one crazy old knight around sang that obnoxious verse over and over again. She could smell the scent of burning wood as she skidded on the gravel, taking the turn too sharply in Hatter's borrowed boots.

"_Heeeey, nonny nonny…" _There he was, in his white long johns, sitting in front of a fire, holding a gauntlet on a stick over the flames. The rest of his armor was propped up around the little blaze in true Charlie fashion, neatly hung on quickly constructed racks and stands. He really was quite handy.

"Charlie!" she called his name happily. He was alive. He hadn't died, not because of her or anything else. The White Knight looked up and when he saw Alice running towards him, a huge smile split his face. He stood, dropping the glove.

"Thank Vilnius!" the old man exclaimed, opening his arms wide. Alice rushed into his embrace, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tight. He was crazy and ridiculous and she'd only known him for a day, but she couldn't imagine him winking out of her life just like that. "I was just about to go back into the water and look for you again."

He had gone back into the lake to search for her? Her bottom lip trembled a little. "Charlie, I'm so sorry I dragged you into this mess."

He gave her a little extra squeeze. "Pish tosh!" he snorted gently. "You didn't drag me into anything, dear girl."

"How did you get to shore with all that armor on?" Hatter asked. They parted and Charlie scoffed at the question.

"I'm a knight," he told the younger man as though it were obvious. Well, he had told the younger so once already.

Hatter shrugged, a hint of a smile lingering at his lips. He put his hat on and adjusted it as Charlie tried to guide Alice into his seat by the fire, then readjusted it. When that didn't satisfy him, he took it off, ran a hand through his wet hair and resettled the hat on his head. "We need to get off this beach before we get spotted. We'll go back to the Kingdom and figure out what to do then." He started towards the woods.

"No," Alice said, stepping from Charlie's grasp and bringing Hatter up short. The dark-eyed man paused, probably counting to three before turning to hold his temper.

"No?"

"Look," she began, looking to both men and silently pleading with them to understand. "I really am grateful for what you did, getting me out of the casino, but-" and this wasn't going to go over well "-I have to go back."

Charlie gawked at her like she was insane and maybe she was. Hatter threw up his hands and spun away in frustration. He tuned back to her and stalked closer as he demanded, "Why are you still hooked on Jack?"

"I told you - my father. Jack was trying to help me," the girl repeated what she'd said not two minutes before.

"Really?" Hatter challenged. "Because it sounds to me like he was using you."

"And you're not?" Alice fired back and immediately regretted it. It was a low blow and entirely false, but she couldn't help herself. The man was trying to destroy the only hope she'd had of finding her father in almost fourteen years. It was a mistake in more ways that one as she could see her image in his eyes change. One more disappointment.

"No more than you're usin' me," he replied. She felt like he'd slapped her. Because it was true. She had been using him. Holding the ring over his head to get him to do what she wanted, play by her rules, even when she knew better. "Don't you care about what's happening here?" he asked, pointing out her outright selfishness. "All the people's lives who are getting ripped apart by the Queen?"

"I do care," she protested plaintively. She wasn't self-centered and heartless. It ached for him to think that of her.

"Then give the Resistance a chance," he urged vehemently.

""What, go running back to Dodo?" She could never face that awful man again, no matter whose side he was on. The thought of asking him for help was repugnant. "They don't care about me. I'm just another oyster to them."

"One arm of the organization, that was," Hatter insisted. "If we get to the top man, he'll help us."

So, it was "us" again. Somehow, that made her feel a little bit better about the whole situation. "You know him?"

"Yes," he confirmed confidently. "No, not exactly." _Jesus Christ._ She almost face-palmed, but he quickly added, "No one knows his true identity, but he goes by a code name: Caterpillar."

"Of course, he does." She shook her head, scrubbing her hands against her face. Fucking Wonderland. Hatter took hold of her wrists and pulled her hands away, leaning down so they were eye to eye.

"Give me a few hours. I'll slip back into the city and I'll make contact." He let her go. "You can.. You can stay with Charlie in the fortress. You'll be safe there," he told her reassuringly. The elderly gentleman nodded his whole-hearted assent. "If I'm not back by nightfall, do it your way."

What he didn't know was that her way was his way. She knew he was right, he'd been right from the first. She nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, just to be sure.

"Yeah."

"Okay," he nodded, relieved. Turning to Charlie, "Get your gear and get going. The Suits will be all over this beach soon." The knight nodded. Hatter gave Alice one last look, then headed off down the beach.

"Hatter!" Alice called after him. The man stopped and looked back questioningly. "Be careful."

He smiled. _God, what a jackass._ "Aren't I always?" And he was moving again, further away, around a bend and gone.

"No."

"No?" Charlie inquired from the stump he'd sat on to don his socks - which, absurdly, were black. Alice shook her head, eyes still on the spot where Hatter had disappeared.

"He's not always careful." Not when it came to her, anyway.

Alice had offered to carry some of Charlie's heavy armor, since he was just as cold and wet as she and quite a bit older, but he insisted he was fine. It was late afternoon when they finally reached the Kingdom of the Knights. Until she saw the empty corral, the girl had completely overlooked how her rescuers had even gotten to the casino.

"Charlie, where are the horses?" she asked, concerned. The man waived off her concern.

"Percival and Guinevere know their way home," he assured her. "When it starts to get dark, they'll return." She should have guessed the White Knight would have a few more tricks in his bag.

The girl was hungry, but couldn't eat the food her host offered; she was tired, but could not sleep. Too much had happened, too many thoughts raced through her mind, emotions through her heart. She had been such a fool with Jack. Letting herself get so wrapped up in him. When something is too good to be true, it usually is. She knew that, but he had been so damned charming, so attentive of her. And he'd been lying through his perfect, white teeth the entire time. She looked down at her ruined dress with a new sense of disgust. How could she have been so blind?

She was just as bad as Jack in some ways, pretending to be something she wasn't. The dress, not that it wasn't pretty and not that she didn't like it, wasn't really who she was. She didn't often wear dresses. She didn't wear blouses and slacks and heels and make-up to go to the grocery store. Alice Hamilton wore jeans and t-shirts, things with bright colors. She gravitated towards the whimsical and fun. And, to be perfectly frank, if she wanted to get a little fancy, her style would never have run towards airy summer frocks and business chic. She had done this for Jack, to be the kind of woman he wanted, because he was the kind of man she wanted. Sweet irony.

"Charlie, this might be a stupid question, but are there any clothes left in the city I could borrow?"

The knight had just looked at her for a moment and she thought maybe she had said something to upset him without realizing it. Then, he smiled widely and scampered off into the ruins, calling for her to follow him. He brought Alice to a large building that reminded her of a cathedral. The roof had caved in in places and a large part of one wall was missing, but this damage had been repaired. She couldn't imagine how long and hard Charlie had worked on fixing this structure and quite admired the man his persistence and dedication. When he opened the door and motioned her inside, she was floored.

Her first impression of the building as a cathedral seemed to play out, as the inside was just one great, huge hall. The hall was filled with racks and racks and tables of clothing, the walls lined with boots and ladies' slippers in all sizes and colors she could imagine. Silent with amazement, the girl walked among the racks and tables, running her fingers over beautiful gowns and fine vestments. Some of the cloth would have been too fragile to lift from the ravage of time alone, but everything was pristine and perfect. Every button shined, every leather boot soft and supple.

Beyond the vast collection of garments, something shined in the light that passed through what remained of stained glass windows. The girl made her way down the center of the hall, where an isle had been left open between the racks. At the far end of the building, neatly organized and beautifully polished were of suits of armor, well over a hundred of them. Swords and lances stood in wooden brackets, maces and morning stars hung from pegs on the walls. Not a speck of dirt, not a spot of rust or tarnish dared sully the perfect luster of the pieces. Alice stood and stared, awestruck.

"Oh my God, Charlie," she breathed. He stood beside her and chuckled.

"You should see the second floor."

The girl gawked at him. "There's more?"

"Oh yes. Every helmet and boot, spaulder and grieve," he nodded. "Every sword and dagger in the entire kingdom is kept within these walls. It wouldn't do to have left them to the elements. It would be an insult to the gallant knights of the realm."

"Is this what you do out here alone every day? Sit and polish boots and armor?" She was astounded and… touched. She didn't need to ask to understand that this was how the White Knight honored his fallen brethren, keeping their memories through the only thing that remained of the great paladins - their armor and weaponry.

He snorted. "Oh heavens, no!" Chuckling at her silliness. "Only on Tuesday and Sunday." Quite a character, that Sir Charles.

"Charlie, I can't take any of this," Alice protested. He would have none of it, holding up a hand to silence her denial.

"Nonsense. What tribute does it pay the brave men and women of the Kingdom to have these things go unused? They may just as well have been laid to rest in the ground," he proclaimed. His voice was slightly thick and he swallowed before going on. "Tis a far better way to honor them, to put these, their treasures, to good use. So that they may be remembered and live on through them."

The girl nodded, blinking back the moisture in her eyes. "You're a wise man, Sir Charles," she told him. The old paladin actually blushed, his scalp turning pink under the tousled wisps of white hair.

"Come, let me show you something." She followed him to a table laid with clothing. Beside the table stood a rack hung with dozens of beautiful dresses. "These are the vestments of Sir Miranda, one of the fiercest lady-knights in the history of Wonderland."

"There were female knights?"

"Oh my, yes. Why shouldn't there be?" he asked, perplexed.

"In my world, only men could become knights," the girl explained. "Only men of noble blood."

"Well, yes, one must be noble to be a knight."

"No, as in descended from royalty." The old man balked.

"That's ludicrous. The line to which one is born has no more to do with the nobility one's a heart than the color of one's horse," Charlie proclaimed sternly. "A knight is such because of their _deeds_." His face fell then, but before she could ask him what was wrong, the man rallied. "I am certain Sir Miranda would be honored if you would wear her raiment, Alice of Legend."

Alice shook her head, laying a hand on the man's arm. "Charlie, I am not the Alice of Legend. I'm-" She almost said "Just Alice" again, but caught herself. "-a normal girl who fell into Wonderland by accident. I didn't come to right any great wrongs. I wouldn't even know how to go about it if I had."

"Was Alice Liddell so different?" She had no answer for that and looked away with a sigh. He was going to be so let down when he finally realized she was nothing special. "Regardless, I give these things to you to do with as you will. And," he added with a crafty little quirk of his lips. "You would do well to remember it is a great insult to refuse a gift freely given."

Well, he had her there. She couldn't help but smile. He was a wily old coot, that's for sure. Turning to him, she curtsied dramatically. "Thank you, good sir." The knight bowed in return, the mischievous glint in his eye assuring her he was in on her little jibe.

Turning back to the table, Alice could see why Charlie had chosen these clothes. Sir Miranda's tastes had run towards shades of blue and silver, colors that would bring out Alice's own blue-gray eyes. Every piece was just beautiful, the dresses some of the most exquisite the girl had ever seen. Those gowns were far too formal and delicate for her to wear, especially given their current predicament. The other clothing, leather trousers and various tunics and blouses, intricately embroidered doublets and vests, these were things that would stand up to all the trouble she got herself into.

Sorting through the offerings, Alice chose a modest tunic woven of some wonderfully soft, and light, yet strong material. The cloth had been dyed a pale, smoky blue and silver threads had been used to carefully stitch embellishments at the short collar and cuffs. Looking closer, she could see that the embroidery depicted dragons breathing fire. The flames, she noticed, shifted the further from the beast they flew, turning into strangely shaped… flowers?

"Charlie, do you know what this pattern means?" she asked out of curiosity. The old man bent close to peer at the images.

"Oh, the tale of the flame lily," he nodded with a little smile. "Many years ago, the forest faeries were celebrating the vernal equinox, the first day of spring. The Great Dragon of winter was angry at having to relinquish his hold on the world to his brother, as usual, and decided to spoil the fae's merriment. He bellowed and spouted fire, threatening to burn the whole forest down." The girl listened enraptured by the story.

"Well, the magic of the faeries was no match for that of a dragon, so they could not stop him. But," Charlie's eyes twinkled as he touched a finger to the cuff Alice held. "They could transform the flames. And so they did, turning the deadly fire into the most beautiful blossoms in Wonderland. These flowers are known as Dragon's breath or flame lilies and bloom every year on the first day of spring, even if the snow still falls."

"That's a wonderful story," Alice said, smiling. He nodded.

"Isn't it? A powerful lesson, as well." His finger tapped the silver flowers. "Even if one is not so powerful as their opponent, one can still be the victor."

It was then that Alice realized Charlie wasn't crazy at all. He spoke and dressed and behaved differently than she, but he was sharp as tack.

She took the tunic and a pair of terracotta colored leather britches, along with a pair of socks and a thong to tie back her hair. It took nearly twenty minutes to find a pair of boots that fit, fortuitously enough almost the same hue as her new pants. The White Knight also gave her a dagger to wear on a belt at her hips. Alice almost refused it. Knives were only effective if you used them to inflict the most damage possible (i.e. death). Anything less and the blade was more of a hindrance than an asset and she didn't know if she would be able to go through with something like that. The girl accepted the weapon, but was fairly certain she would not be wearing it.

Together, the two went back to Charlie's camp and Alice, armed with needle and thread and a pair of wickedly sharp tailor's shears, sat by the fire on a large animal fur and set to altering the garments. Sir Miranda was a bit taller and larger than she, herself. As she cut and sewed, Sir Charles's soft singing a pleasant background noise, the girl imagined the dashing lady-knight wielding her sword in battle and vanquishing all foes. She wondered what the woman had looked like and was about to ask when her friend (for he certainly was) spoke up.

"How old were you when your father disappeared?" He asked gently.

It wasn't her favorite topic of conversation. Thinking about her father was a painful, frustrating activity that left her feeling sore and angry. But, Charlie was her friend and so, she would answer his questions. "Ten."

He nodded sympathetically. "Must have been quite a shock."

Alice licked her lips and swallowed the tightness in her throat with a shrug. "Yeah. You know how kids are. They blame themselves for that kind of thing." Talking about it like it had happened to someone else was always easier. The paladin's eyes slipped from hers, taking on a far off kind of look, filled with sadness.

"Charlie?" she called softly in concern.

"I was ten once," the elderly man said, still staring off into nothingness. "I was ten when the armies came."

"The Queen's armies?" She asked, stunned. Alice Liddell had brought down the Queen's rule a century and a half ago, but her majesty had defeated the Red King even before that. "But that was-"

"Almost two hundred years ago."

"Oh my God, Charlie." How was he still alive? That wasn't possible. In her world. In her world, people didn't live that long, but she had to remember this was Wonderland. He'd been alone for two hundred years.

The knight went on. "I was one of three squires to the real White Knight." The _real_ knight? She didn't understand, but did not interrupt, letting him go on at his own pace. "My job was to carry the great lance. But when it mattered, when I was needed most… I lost my nerve and I ran."

_Poor boy._ She thought of a small, frightened child, faced with a massive army. How could he not run? Charlie hung his head in shame and all she could see was that little boy, all she wanted to do was hug him and tell him he had done nothing wrong, that it would be alright. But obviously, it hadn't been alright. The man before her started breaking up kindling and tossing the small sticks into the fire pit to give his hands something to do.

"I hid for three days," he continued. "And when I came out… everyone was dead." _Oh, God…_ Her heart broke for him. She couldn't even imagine something so horrible. "Even the magnificent Red King up there on his throne." He motioned towards the once grand stone seat. "At first, I wished I'd died with them."

_Oh, Charlie, no._ She almost got up, but he kept talking and she let him. "But, after a while, a deeper feeling took over. I… I wanted a second chance. I wanted to avenge them. So, I stole the White Knight's armor. His name… his courage." He drew a shaky breath, hazel eyes shining now. "And I waited for the right time." The man looked at her then and smiled gently. Smiled through his tears. "When you showed up, I knew the right time had finally arrived."

She couldn't say anything passed the lump in her throat. He nodded and sniffled, turning to reach for more kindling and quickly wiped his eyes. Pushing the clothing aside, Alice stood and went to him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders before he could turn and stop her. He laid his hands on her arms, leaning his head against her shoulder. Tears slipped from her eyes as she struggled to find something to say, anything to ease his pain, his guilt. He was ten, a boy. How could anyone expect a child to go into battle? It was inhuman.

"You are a brave and noble knight, Sir Charles," she insisted, voice quavering but resolute. "I believe in you." Then, as her voice failed her, on a whisper, "I believe in you, Charlie."

_

* * *

_**The fairy story I stol from an episode of Food Network Challenge: Cupcakes. Originally, it was just about a dragon crashing the fairy party, but I changed it a bit. I don't remember the name of the woman who made the dragon/flower cupcakes or I would give her proper credit. Sorry.**


	11. Will Wonders Never Cease

**So, here we are again and Hatter returns. I skew from the series quite a bit here, so be prepared. Hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

Sewing through leather by hand was hard, tedious work, not to mention painful. Alice had stuck herself three times with the needle when she got lost in her thoughts and stopped paying attention to the task at hand. Charlie had laid down in his hammock shortly after telling her his story. She figured the tale and all the emotions it stirred up had left the man feeling a bit wrung out. When she heard him start to snore and hum softly, she knew he was asleep. Good. He needed his rest. Unfortunately, that left Alice with only her inner turmoil for company. Lacking any clocks, the girl had only the sun to judge the passage of time by. She glanced at it anxiously, again and again, though had no real notion of the time. All she knew was that it felt like forever.

She finished her alterations and tried on the new clothes. The seams were a little crooked, the stitches not quite even, but all in all, she hadn't done a bad job. The pants were a bit loose, but there was no helping that. After the effort it took just to adjust the hem a few inches, she wasn't about to sit and restitch the entire inseam. She had shortened the sleeves on the tunic drastically. There was no way to just take a few inches off the cuffs, because of the beautiful embroidery. So, she had to remove the sleeve and shorten it from the other end. Now the shirt was something she was more comfortable in, almost like a gussied-up t-shirt.

Charlie didn't have a full length mirror and she wasn't about to wake him to tell her how she looked, so Alice had to twist and contort herself this way and that, checking to make sure the fit was as correct as she could manage. Not bad at all. The boots fit just wonderfully, the sole cushioned inside and the leather soft and comfortably snug at her calves. She used the thong - a strip of some strong, hide-like material - to tie her hair back in a ponytail. Alice never would have thought herself the type to go for leather pants, but the clay coloring and the laces running up the outside to the knee tickled her fancy. With the dress finally off and clothes that suited her on, she felt a bit more herself. But the sun was starting to dip low in the sky and the quiet nibble in the pit of her stomach was fast becoming an outright gnawing. Where was Hatter? All of Wonderland was out for his blood and the idiot had run off alone. Damn him. If he went and got himself caught… She didn't want to think about it. But what she wanted and what she got were two different things.

The sound of someone approaching brought her heart to her throat and she rushed to see… but, no. It wasn't Hatter. Percival and Guinevere had found their way home, just as Charlie said they would. Alice had no idea what she was doing, but managed to unsaddle them with a little trial and error. Their bridles would just have to stay put. She turned them loose in their corral and closed the gate behind.

"Where are you?" she asked the wind blowing between the trees. The same trees were blocking her view of the sun, so she couldn't see how close it was to the horizon - as though that made a difference. The girl left camp then, making her way along a path she had not traveled yet, choosing this one over the others solely because it went up. The forest opened out onto a clearing full of tall grass which had died and turned hay colored in the sun. Maybe it was hay, she didn't know. The path stopped here, but there was a steep hill rising up above her and Alice climbed it. At the top, she surveyed the area. The view was spectacular. She could see most of the Kingdom from here and with the sun setting behind, the scene would have been quite magnificent. Would have been if she weren't so worried.

What would she do if he didn't come back? Hatter had so quickly become her touchstone here in Wonderland. Nothing she did was independent of his influence in one way or another. And, besides that, she genuinely liked the man. He was outrageous and witty, ridiculous, and yet so passionate and sincere. She had been surprised to find that she admired him. Quickly after that realization, the girl decided she shouldn't have been surprised at all. Hatter really was someone special.

But would he come back as promised? That was the issue. She chewed her bottom lip, staring over the ruined city. Something cold and wet brushed her arm suddenly and Alice jumped aside. A strange … bird? Insect? Some kind of flying creature fluttered away from her. Several of the strange creatures, actually. She wiped at the place on her arm and made a yuck face. Whatever it was, it had left some kind of greasy smear on her skin. It was somehow familiar and, as she watched, one of the flying things landed on a rock not far from where she stood, opening and closing its wings slowly as it rested.

They moved like butterflies, but were much larger than any butterfly the girl had ever seen. The wings were far thicker than that of an insect. She couldn't see how the creature was even capable of flying with those bulky things. The wings glistened as well, coated with some yellowish substance, which must have been what rubbed off on her arm. Wait… She tilted her head and peered closer, brows furrowing. It looked almost like… no…

"Yes, they're breadandbutterflies," someone said from behind her, near the tree line. Alice whirled and saw, for the second time, the large, plum-colored feline. "You're quite fortunate, really. Since they are so tasty when served with tea, they are rather hard to find these days." The creature padded towards her a few steps and sat, gazing idly at her as he had that morning. "Hello Alice."

"H-hello," the girl said back, feeling a little like she might be unraveling. "Are you real?"

A stupid question maybe, but worth asking. She had been under a lot of stress recently and that could make you see things that weren't there. The cat spoke, his pleasingly rich baritone voice carrying a slightly superior tone. "How should I know what's real to you?" He asked. "If I were a figment of your imagination, do you think I'd be in on that little secret? I should think _you_ would be the one to tell _me_ if I were real."

Okay, that was a good point. "But I don't know."

"Then we really are in trouble, aren't we?" was his sardonic reply. His argument made sense, after a fashion, but all the same, Alice had the strong suspicion he was just toying with her. Like a cat with a mouse. How appropriate.

"Would Charlie be able to see you if he was up here?"

"Does he have eyes?"

"Yes."

"Do they work?"

"Yes," Alice confirmed.

"Then I would imagine so," the cat told her. Okay, so he was real. She wasn't hallucinating, which was great news, but she was having a conversation with a talking cat. Not so great news. Especially, when he was big enough to have her for dinner.

"Okay, so you're real," the girl said. Now that she had her first concern taken care of, she moved on to the second. "What do you want?"

The cat thought for a moment before answering. "There is an itchy spot behind my left ear that I can never reach."

Alice blinked at him, completely thrown by that answer. "You want me to scratch your head?"

"I _am _a cat," he pointed out. "Isn't that what all cats want?"

Fabulous, a talking cat with a sense of humor. "Why are you here?"

He narrowed his eyes curiously. "Where else would I be?"

"Anywhere." She opened her hands and gestured to the wide world. She could have sworn the animal shrugged.

"Well, if I could be anywhere, I may just as well be here."

Like pulling teeth. "Just looking for idle conversation, then?" Maybe there weren't a lot of talking animals out in the woods.

"No." Well, if he wanted to eat her, he would have done already, as this was the second time he'd found her alone and unarmed (the knife was still sitting on Charlie's bed, not that she supposed it would do much good against a four foot tall feline.).

So, not idle conversation… "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

He nodded once. "Yes."

"So tell me."

"Don't you want to ask more questions?" he asked instead of speaking his piece. "You seem to enjoy it so." She had heard once that cats are contrary creatures and, boy, was that turning out to be true. In spades.

Alice sighed, rubbing her fingers against her forehead wearily. "I don't know what to ask. I don't know what to do." That's all this place was to her, a giant list of problems she had no solutions for.

"That's the first sensible thing you've said since arriving in Wonderland," the cat commented. It almost sounded like a compliment. The girl snorted softly.

"I thought being sensible was a bad thing around here."

He nodded thoughtfully. "It can be," the animal conceded. "But only when dealing with nonsensical things."

"Like a talking cat?" Alice ask pointedly. He smiled widely, wider than should have been strictly possible. "I'm scared," she admitted. She couldn't say it to Hatter or Charlie, but somehow, she was able to tell this strange creature and not feel ashamed or weak.

"You should be." She hadn't expected him to console her, so wasn't disappointed or stung by the blunt reply. The girl sighed again and turned to face the city as the sun began to set. "I'm not the Alice of Legend."

"Neither was Alice Liddell," the cat said from behind her, his tone actually growing a touch gentler. "A legend is a story people tell themselves to feel better."

"Then how did _she_ defeat the Queen?" The million dollar question. As far as Alice Hamilton could remember, the child Alice hadn't brought down the Queen in either the book or cartoon. She'd only escaped back to the real world. So, they were no help. What was the secret? How could anyone defeat the Queen of Hearts?

"Luck," he replied, simply. That wasn't very helpful. There was nothing Alice could do to make herself more lucky. "When a little girl stood up to the most powerful woman in all of Wonderland, unafraid, it made people take a long look at their ruler. The Queen of Hearts had never ordered a child put to death before. Her most loyal guards refused and she ordered them to death as well. They were nothing more than a pack of cards to the Queen."

"So, they turned on her."

"They did. And the Queen fled." He added in a more grave voice, "But that was then. Now, it is different."

"What do you mean?" Alice half turned back to look at him.

The cat stood, walking over to sit beside her. The expression he looked up at her with was the most serious she had ever seen on a cat. "She isn't just a woman now. She has the Vorpal Blade, the sword that slayed the Jabberwock; and the Stone of Wonderland does more than power the Looking Glass."

"What else does it do?"

"It doesn't matter." She gawked at him.

"How can it not matter?" her voice rose in confusion and disbelief.

"It won't stop you from defeating her," he simply stated, as though that were all there was to it.

"What should I do?" God, someone please tell her what to do. She was so lost.

"Do what you think is right," the cat told her firmly, but gently, his emerald eyes focused on her intensely. "There is nothing more you can do than that, Alice Hamilton."

She looked away, back towards the city, all lit brilliant orange and amber and a thousand other shades. "Thank you." He had seen her, really seen her. Called her by her real name. It was the first time someone in Wonderland had looked at the girl and accepted her for who she was.

His fur was softer than she would have guessed when he bumped his head against her hip and hand. She stroked his head and scritched that spot behind his left ear, smiling to herself when she heard his gently rumbling purr. They stood together and watched as the sun slowly burnt itself out behind the mountains that surrounded the Kingdom of the Knights.

"Alice?" Oh, thank the gods. She turned to see Hatter making his way up the hill. He looked none the worse for wear, thank you again, just a little out of breath. Alice looked down at her hip, but the cat was gone again. It wasn't a surprise, even though she hadn't heard or felt him move.

The man paused in his climb, just looking up at her for a moment. She tilted her head to the side curiously, as his expression was a bit odd as he gazed upon her. Then she remembered her new clothes. Of course. He shook whatever it was off and spoke. "It's good news." Finally, some _good_ news. "The Resistance wants to help."

Of course, they did. They wanted the ring. Hatter finished his climb, coming to a stop just before the girl. She'd almost allowed herself to start to think something might have happened to him. He'd cut it pretty damn close to his self-imposed deadline.

"They're sending a special agent who will take us to see Caterpillar," he finished with a smile. He was breathing a little heavy and she smiled just a little in return. It was good news, but she couldn't muster much cheer over it. The Resistance wouldn't help her find her father in the casino. Their goal was to overthrow the Queen, not help little oysters like her. But the cat had told her to do what she thought was right and what she thought was right was to give the ring, her only bargaining chip, to those most in need of it. She had no right to put herself before so many people who had suffered for years under the Queen of Hearts.

"Phew," Hatter breathed with a little chuckle. "It's quite a.. steep hill." His brows drew together slightly as he took in her somber expression. "You okay?"

She nodded, supplying a partial explanation for her subdued demeanor. "I was starting to think you weren't coming back."

He took the words the wrong way, the smile leaving his face. "You still don't trust me?"

Alice shook her head. "I was worried about you."

Obviously the man had not expected that and blinked at her, mouth opening to reply, but nothing came out. His expression shifted again and he looked almost chagrinned. "Oh."

It was a little disconcerting that he was surprised she had been anxious about his safety. Did he really think her so self-centered? She wasn't sure she'd like the answer she got to that question, so didn't ask it. Instead, she chose a safer inquiry. "How soon 'til they get here?"

Hatter shrugged. "I dunno, but those guys can move pretty fast when they need to." He glanced away, at the city. The sight stopped him and she understood why. Bathed in the last of the dying sun's glow, the ruins were breathtaking. The same light lit his face and, with his expression so determined, he looked like a hero in a comic book - too heroic to be real.

"You're going to fight with them, aren't you? Against the Queen," she asked softly, already knowing the answer.

"I have to try," he responded, not looking away from the great ruin. "As Dodo said, I've lived my life playing both sides of the court. It's the only way I could stay alive." Now, he did turn to face her, that same determination hardening his voice. "I made the Hearts think I was working for them, while I fed their enemies. Those days are over."

His gaze went back to the city, which was just as well, because that way he couldn't see Alice blink rapidly to keep the unexpected moisture in her eyes at bay. She was struck by how very much he reminded her of Charlie in that moment. Both looking for a second chance to make up for past transgressions, both judging themselves far too harshly.

"Dodo was wrong." He looked to her again, confused by her declaration. "And you're wrong. Using the Hearts so you could help the people who needed it doesn't make you a coward, Hatter."

"Alice-"

"No, listen," she cut off his argument gently. "It wasn't the only way you could stay alive. You could have done nothing. You could have profited off the Tea Shop and ignored the world rotting around you like everyone else. It might have been unpopular, but you risked more by lying to the Hearts' faces than Dodo does hiding in his hole in the ground. So don't you stand there and tell me he was right about you."

She had started off her point in a soft tone, but by the end of it her voice was as hard as his. She was even scowling a little bit.

"Ali-"

"Don't, Hatter," she warned firmly. "I'm serious." He stared at her a few seconds before backing down with a nod. Good. She could only hope what she had said had gotten through to him, even if only a tiny bit. They stood silently as the sun finally disappeared behind the mountain. In the gloaming light, the two made their way back to Charlie's glade. "Do animals talk in Wonderland?"

He was so surprised by the question he laughed. "Sometimes. It depends on what kind."

"What about… big, purple cats?" His amused smile faltered just a bit.

"Did you see a big, purple talking cat?" The way he asked made Alice think that she had been right to worry about her mental faculties.

"No, no," she answered with a little wave of her hand and an incredulous chuckle. "Maybe."

Hatter stopped walking and stared at her almost slack-jawed. "You saw the Cheshire Cat?"

Was that who he was? In the cartoon, the cat was smaller, not to mention bright magenta and quite round; nothing like her cat. But the smile… that smile should have been a dead giveaway. "I think I did." He gawked. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No one has seen the Cheshire Cat in a hundred years," Hatter stated. Something in his gaze shifted and Alice took a step back.

"Don't look at me like that," she warned. Damn. She should have kept her trap shut. He opened his mouth to say something, but the girl spun away, walking quickly down the path. "And don't tell Charlie." The last thing she needed was the White Knight's near-worship of her to be vindicated just because a supernatural feline had given her some advice. The Cat had said so himself, there was no Alice of Legend.

She could feel Hatter's eyes on her as she walked, the lack of a second set of footsteps in her ears evidenced that he was just standing there, staring at her. If she could take back the thoughtless inquiry, she would, but it was too late now. She just had to hope he looked at the whole thing logically. She also conveniently forgot that in Wonderland, logic is a rare beast indeed.

The old knight had already started the fire by the time she reached the camp - Hatter not far behind - and was setting to prepare dinner - borogove, yum. With Hatter safe and sound and the Resistance back on their side, Alice's anxiety eased just enough that she thought she could manage to fall asleep if she tried. Asking the other two to wake her when the meal was ready, the girl went to take a cat nap. And, yes, she fully understood the irony.

Her second helping of borogove was just as delicious as the first. Though her nerves were displeased by being forced to eat, her stomach had final say and was soon purring with bliss. The meal began in utter silence and Alice knew that Charlie was thinking about what he had told her earlier that afternoon and Hatter was thinking about the Cheshire Cat and she, herself, was thinking about Jack and her father and the difficult choices that lay ahead for her. The girl wanted to put a stop to all three of those lines of thought, at least for the moment.

"Why is it called Wonderland?" she asked out of nowhere. Both men looked up at her, then at each other.

"It's… it's just what it's called," Hatter answered haltingly.

"So, you've never wondered why?" She hoped they would ignore her choice of words. He shrugged.

"I suppose I did when I was younger," he shrugged. "You probably got the same answer as a kid when you asked why it was called 'earth'."

Alice lifted an eyebrow. "I know why it's called 'earth'. It's derived from an ancient word for dirt. Wonderland sounds like an amusement park. There has to be a reason."

"Well, I don't know it," he shook his head, popping a bite of meat into his mouth and sucking the grease from the pad of his thumb.

"I do," Charlie chimed in. He set his plate aside and added a bit of wood to the fire. "Much was lost when the Queen destroyed the city, but I remember a bit of the tale I was told as a boy."

Alice set her plate down as well. She hoped this was a happier story than the last one he told. Hatter kept eating, but was listening intently.

"Long, long ago when Wonderland was not Wonderland, but only a wild country filled with beasts and beastly people, the knights of the old world passed through the vale and into the new. They called the land Avalon, paradise, a land of infinite wonder. With pure hearts and strong wills, they brought the scattered, leaderless peoples of this world together under a just rule of compassion and order. Everyone lived in peace and happiness. Others found their way through the vale, not always with goodness in their souls and the knights saw they had need of a way to control passage between the Earth and Avalon. So, the Stone was created and the vale was locked within the Looking Glass.

"How Avalon became Wonderland is a mystery kept within the folds of time. Perhaps as more people passed into the realm, those who were not of the same time or place as the Ancient Knights, the word Avalon lost its meaning. But one must admit, this is truly a wondrous land, so perhaps it was the knights who had it wrong after all." He smiled, which made Alice smile.

"Charlie, was one of the knights named Arthur?" she asked. For Avalon was the word King Arthur and his knights used for heaven. It also explained why Charlie's horses were named Percival and Guinevere.

"No, but the Ancient Knights did pass down a legend about a great king called Arthur. I don't recall the tale myself, I'm afraid," Charlie told her with an apologetic little shrug. "Why do you ask?"

"In my world Arthur is the most famous king who ever lived."

"Well, will wonders never cease," he chuckled. The old man took a breath and huffed it out pleasantly. "And, on that sentiment, I believe I shall retire for the evening." He stood and nodded a bow to the girl.

"Pleasant dreams, Sir Charles," she bade the man.

"G'night, Charlie," Hatter said with a little lift of his plate.

_And then there were two. _The younger man set his dish aside, wiping his hands on his pants in true male fashion. Hoping to keep him from bringing up the Cat again or something more upsetting - like Jack - Alice groped for a topic of conversation. She could have just gone to be herself, of course, but did not want to leave him to himself.

"What's the deal with your right hand?" she blurted. His eyebrows went up and he held up said appendage for inspection. Alice gave him a look. "You know what I mean. I saw what you did to the pillar when you swung at Dodo, what you did to that man's face on the roof. So what gives?"

He shrugged. "You saw for yourself."

"Yeah, I saw _what_ it can do," she allowed. "What I want to know is _why_."

"There is no why," the man said simply. She was agawk at that statement.

"What do you mean. There has to be a reason. Were you dropped into a vat of toxic waste as a kid?"

He ignored her last question. "Alice, this is Wonderland. Not everything happens for a reason. Some things just _are._"

While her mind insisted everything had an explanation, she had no choice but to take him at his word. He obviously believed what he was saying. _Weird._ Unfortunately, that simple answer put an end to the discussion and she had to quickly come up with another topic before he found one himself.

"So much for being fast when they need to," she said lightly of the special agent supposedly on his or her way to collect them.

"There's Suits all over the city," Hatter informed her. "That's probably what's holding them up."

"You saw them?"

He nodded, then assured her with a slightly rakish smile. "But they didn't see me, so don't worry."

"I wasn't," she protested. "Did you see Mad March?"

The smile vanished. "No." She could see the muscle in his jaw tighten and wondered what had suddenly angered him. He looked at her and even in the firelight she cold tell his eyes had darkened. "Did he give you that?"

"Give me w-"

"I saw the cut on your neck, Alice." His tone was almost accusatory, like she had tried to hide it from him or something. And, yes, she hadn't mentioned it, but that wasn't the same thing. She just didn't want to upset him. After a beat, she nodded. Was it possible to bite through your own teeth somehow? Alice was worried if Hatter kept grinding his together like that, she would soon find out.

"It's not bad, really." She ignored the way that sounded like a battered woman trying to defend her abusive husband.

"He had a knife to your throat," Hatter practically growled.

"But I'm fine," she reminded him. Then, trying to lighten things up, she added. "I know it's hard to believe, but as charming as you are, he just really doesn't like you."

She knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say. Not just wrong, but very, very wrong from the look on his face. "What's that got to do with it?" he asked, voice suddenly hoarse. She didn't even entertain the notion of not answering.

"He.. He wanted to know where you were. And when I wouldn't tell him…" she trailed off, instinctively knowing that saying that he'd threatened to kill her would be a very bad idea. Hatter stared at the mark on her neck and Alice fancied she could hear his blood boiling. March had been so intent on finding this man that he risked being executed by the Queen _again_. She knew she didn't really have the right to ask, but did anyway. "Hatter, what happened between you and March?"

His chocolate eyes, which were just now closer to onyx than anything else, flicked up to hers. In their endless depths she could see his rage, but beyond that were pain and guilt. "I killed him."

Of all the things he could have said, this was the one she had never guessed at. She was so shocked by his admission that it took her a bit to process the information. "But you said the Queen had him put to death."

"She did. It was my fault, so I may as well have done it myself," he clarified. That was just like Hatter, she was learning. To look at it from the angle which shone him in the worst possible light.

"What happened?" the girl asked softly.

"Owl has a brother, Robin. He was working in the casino, trying to sabotage the emotion synthesis machinery. While doing that, he said he found something. The Queen was trying a new technology on the oysters, trying to drain something else from them."

"What?"

Hatter shook his head. "He was discovered before he had a chance to figure it out. He ran to my shop, of all places. What could I do? I gave him some gold and a fake name and sent him on his way. Had Dormie take him out of the city with a shipment of Frivolity a customer of mine ordered for a party. Whatever it was he saw, the Queen really wanted his head. She sent March after him and when he found his way to me asking questions… I lied." He stopped, pulling his gaze from her and throwing it into the fire. He looked haunted. "And when Robin got away, the Queen had Matthew executed. I killed my best friend."

Alice reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, but he actually shied away from her touch. That, of course, only made her want to comfort him more. Poor man. She found her own little flame of anger inside, almost overshadowed by the sadness on his behalf. The Resistance, those bastards. He had done so much for him and what did he get in return? Treated like a traitor, like a snake.

"I can't believe Owl pointed a gun at you!" she said without meaning to.

"She doesn't know."

He hadn't looked up; the expression on his face hadn't changed. "What?"

"I never told her. I never told anyone. Only Dormie knows and I made him swear to keep quiet."

"Why?" she couldn't even fathom it. With Dodo calling him a leech, saying he did nothing for the cause, how could he remain silent on something like this? If Hatter's eyes had been haunted a moment ago, they were downright eidolic now.

"When I was in the Guard, I learned what it was to kill someone," he almost whispered. She'd been afraid something like that was true. It didn't change the way she felt about the man. He was still good, still someone she admired. "Men are dead, because of _me. _I can't do that again. I won't. If Dodo or the Resistance knew I was willing to let my own friend die…"

He shook his head, not saying more, but she got the idea. If they knew he was that dedicated, they'd want to use it to their advantage. They'd ask him to kill for them. And if he refused…

"Three men… I got sick every time." He shook his head. "I had to stay on the edge of the Resistance, never get too involved," he explained, though it didn't need explaining. "So, Dodo is right. I am-"

She moved fast, catching his jaw in her hand and turning his face toward her, bringing their eyes together once again. He curled his fingers around her wrist, but did not pull her hand away. "I told you not to say that to me. This doesn't change anything I said before. Since when is not wanting to kill people a bad thing?" She didn't give him a chance to answer. "Before you start thinking you should be more like _them_-" Dodo and his ilk "-remember this. If you hadn't stepped between us, I'd be dead right now. Just because someone is on the side of good, doesn't mean they are a good person. Dodo is a monster. He just happens to be on our team."

Our team. Because it was 'we', remember, Hatter? They just stared at each other for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than a minute. Finally, finally… the man swallowed and nodded within the grasp of her hand. His eyes didn't lose their ghostly cast, but at least she had put the thought into his head. She let her fingers slip from his face, the stubble on his jaw scraping lightly against her skin. He released her wrist with equal slowness and she sat again, beside him now, so close their arms almost touched.

In companionable silence, they stared into the flames.

* * *

**I thought the timeline between Hatter geting word the the Resistance and Jack showing up was quite a bit off. I mean, I know it would take Hatter longer to walk back to the Kingdom than it would for Jack to ride there on a horse, but seriously. Arriving at almost the exact same time? Also, the Cheshire Cat is my favorite Wonderland character. and American McGee's Cat is my favorite incarnation, so you'll notice, my Cat is a bit more like hers than the original or the cartoon version. oh.. hope you liked the breadandbutterflies.**


	12. No, They Won't

**I just want to warn you guys that this next bit is a little.... Look, as cool as the mini was, there was next to nothing FANTASTY-like in Wonderland. I had to rectify that.**

* * *

They remained silent long enough that Hatter had to add more wood to the fire and Alice was beginning to think they would stay that way until dawn. Glancing at him occasionally, she found him each time staring into the fire, chewing on his nails absently, a look of intense thought on his flame-bathed features. He must be as anxious about the upcoming meeting the the Resistance as she was. The girl had just resigned herself to a long night of silent waiting and contemplation, when the man spoke.

"Where were you in the Truth Room?" She looked at him, so close beside her, but somehow miles away. "The Room reflects your worst thoughts and memories, amplifies them. What was it?"

So, he was asking her to share her worst thoughts and memories? That was so intensely personal. She had not even told Jack about it and they had been intimately close. The girl never would have dreamed of imparting such to someone she had only known for two days. Had it really only been two days? Felt like a lifetime. But how could she deny him? This was Hatter. And hadn't he answered her when she'd asked the same of him? Not that she felt obligated, that wasn't it. She just… felt he deserved to know. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted to tell him.

"I live in a place called New York City," she began slowly. "There is a building, the Empire State Building. At one point, it was the tallest skyscraper in the world. Tourists come from all over the world to see it, to see the city from its observation deck. My father said that every real New Yorker had to go there at least once. So, when I was ten, we went."

She licked her lips, pausing for a moment as the memory of that day washed over her. Hatter had turned slightly and was watching her face as she spoke. "It was March and there was still snow on the ground, so it was still freezing," she chuckled softly, almost able to feel the icy tingle in her cheeks as she had that morning. "But we went anyway. Figured the cold would keep the crowds away and it did. The deck was all but deserted and the city…" the girl trailed off, eyes taking on a distant cast as she was no longer looking at the man before her, but out over a vast expanse of steel and glass and concrete, all covered in a sparkling layer of white. "It was so beautiful. He was laughing because I kept running from one spot to the next. I had to see it all, the whole city, and I couldn't stand still."

Alice swallowed and licked her lips again, though her mouth had gone a bit dry just at that moment. Despite being so close to the fire, she felt chilled; despite the wonderful meal, she felt empty. She went on. "When I couldn't hear him anymore, I thought he just couldn't keep up. So, I went back, but he wasn't where we had last been standing. I went around the whole deck twice, in both directions, and looked inside the closed off observatory, but he wasn't there. I knew he wouldn't have just gone back down in the elevator, he wouldn't have just left me there. There was only one other option in my ten year old mind."

"Alice…" He whispered, reading her thoughts as always, knowing what she was about to say.

"I thought he'd fallen somehow," she said it anyway. "There are bars and safety mesh to keep that from happening, but I was convinced. I started screaming for help. Everyone thought I had lost it. I looked over the side and shouted his name, hoping he was hanging on to a ledge or something. Of course, he wasn't. Security came up to stop the commotion, see what was wrong. They tried to bring me back inside, but I wouldn't go. I… I kind of freaked out.

"I was hysterical and they barely managed to get my mom's name and our phone number out of me. When she got there and found out what happened, she tried to calm me down. But, I was a terrified kid and no one was listening to me. She tried to take me home, but it just made things worse. I wouldn't get into the elevator. I threw a fit, kicking and screaming; not because I was mad, because I was petrified."

"Of the elevator?" he asked softly. Alice shook her head, which cause the tears in her eyes to spill over and roll down her cheeks. She was breathing heavily, trying not to break down, her hands clenched into fists against her thighs.

"I-" Her words caught in her throat and she had to swallow them down before trying again. "I thought they were lying. I thought he had fallen and when they took me out… out through the lobby, I would see… I would see on the sidewalk…"

He made a soft sound, breath and teeth, and put his arms around her, pulling her close. The girl hadn't even realized she was shaking until she was pressed against his solid, steady form. Wrapping her arms around his waist in return, she closed her eyes, her face against his collarbone, hiding herself in his scent, his warmth, his strength. She wouldn't cry, Alice swore to herself, even as the tears slid from her eyes. She wouldn't do that, even if she already was doing it. She wouldn't let him see how weak she truly was, not when he was so strong.

Hatter held her tight and pressed his lips to her hair. He didn't rock her like a baby, didn't rub her back like a child, just held her as she broke apart against him, then pulled herself back together. He allowed her all the time she needed, didn't whisper meaningless words meant to sooth that which could never be soothed. And when she pulled away, he let her go. He gave her everything she needed and asked nothing in return.

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. The little oyster had cried more in the last two days in Wonderland than she had in the last two years back home. She didn't like to cry, it made her feel weak. And she'd done it in front of Hatter. That was mortifying. She was about to stand and go to bed - not to sleep, but to hide like a coward - when he spoke.

"Do you know why they call me Hatter?"

Alice sniffed and wiped under her nose embarrassedly, then shook her head. "No."

He half grinned which caught her a little off guard. "Because I wear a hat."

She was silent for a moment, just blinking at him, flabbergasted. He winked, the half grin growing into a full fledged smile and the girl found herself smiling right back at him. Then, wonder of wonders indeed, she laughed.

"You ass!" she accused, shoulders still shaking as she rubbed her hands against her face. He laughed himself, now. Shaking her head, Alice looked at the man. He was really something else again. Quite a piece of work, that Hatter. "What is with the hats, anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"Dude, I saw your office at the Tea Shop, remember?"

He nodded, flicking his eyes down over her shape. "Vividly." She rolled her own sea-blues at that comment. He really was an ass. There were no two ways about it.

"There were hats all over the place. Do you wear all of those?"

"I have," he shrugged. "There are some that are my favorites and some I just wear on occasion. Some I've only worn once."

"You just have a hat fetish?" Hey, that's cool. Different strokes, right?

"When I was a kid, believe it or not, I wanted to be a magician," he said. Alice perked, her smile becoming more solid.

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." Hatter grinned at her. "Dunno if you noticed, but I do have a bit of a flare for presentation."

"I did notice," she chuckled. "So, do you mean.. like, real magic?" Charlie's little net had clued that such a thing actually existed in this world, but Hatter shook his head.

"That's what I always loved about the whole thing," he told her, his eyes brightening as he spoke of something important to him, that wasn't also tragic. "Making people think it's magic, it must be magic, but it's just a trick; it's just _you_."

She could see how that would appeal to the man; to anyone, really. Hell, the way he spun it, she wanted to give it a go. "And magicians wear top hats."

His grin spread into full blossom, bringing out the dimple in his right cheek. His hands moved as he talked. The man was practically giddy and, for the first time, Alice realized how damned adorable Hatter could be when he wasn't trying to fake it.

"That's the best part. Not the wand, not the glamorous assistant… though, they are rather nice, too." Oh jeez. "Have you ever heard someone say, 'he waved his wand over that'? No. 'He pulled that out of his _hat_.' That's what they say. And that's the best trick, pulling a rabbit out of the hat. To bring something from nothing and it's not magic, it's not gods, or anything else. It's…"

"It's you," she finished. He nodded, smile fading to something softer, something warmer that was reflected in his eyes. One hand came up, reaching out as if to touch her face or tuck back an errant lock of hair, but stopped as his eyes shifted form hers, focusing on something behind her. Alice turned, but didn't see anything. When she looked back, Hatter's smile had shifted again and he took hold of her hand, getting to his feet.

"Come on," he said, helping her up. "I want to show you something."

He led her away from the fire, not down one of the paths or another, but straight into the woods. At least the man wove carefully between the trees so she didn't trip in the darkness. He stopped and turned back to her with an eager little smile, then brought the girl out of the woods and into a small clearing. Alice stopped beside him and gasped softly, her mouth opening in awe.

The clearing was filled with bright little pinprick flashes of light. Blue and green and yellow, a thousand shades of each or more, here one instant, gone the next. It was like Christmas, all the houses lit up. Except it wasn't houses, it was the air that was hung with a million flashing bulbs. Absolutely enchanting.

"Lightning bugs," she said with a smile. More than she'd ever seen at once ever, maybe more than she'd seen in her life combined. Their little lights flashed brighter and clearer than any firefly in her world. He nodded, slowly puling her further into the clearing until they were completely surrounded. The little flashing insects drifted around them haphazardly. Alice had trouble following any one bug, as once its glow ceased, two more seemed to spring up right where the first had been.

"Oh, Hatter. This is beautiful," she breathed.

"You know, they say there are no three fireflies exactly the same color at any one time in Wonderland."

"No?"

"There are only ever two, a male and a female, and that's how they find each other. They'll search the world over for their perfect match. They mate, lay eggs and die. It could be thousands of generations before the color is seen again."

Alice chuckled, shaking her head. "That's really depressing Hatter."

He laughed. "Most girls find it romantic," he admonished playfully. She looked to him and momentarily forgot what she was about to say. The sheer amount of lightning bugs all flashing cast a constant, faintly blue glow on the clearing and, so, on Hatter himself. For the first time since meeting the man, he didn't look angry or worried, confused or sorrowful or guilty; he just… looked like Hatter. The effect was certainly worth taking a moment to appreciate.

When she had stared at him too long, he lifted his eyebrows questioningly. Oh, right, she had been about to say something. "Most girls, huh? You mean the _other_ girls you've told."

Not even chagrinned, he chuckled at her astute observation. Alice shook her head and rolled her eyes. Incorrigible. Then, turned back to the amazing display before her. She was so absorbed in the beautiful little flashes that she didn't notice the music at first. As it grew louder, she finally realized the sound wasn't coming from within her head, but without. Her hand tightened around Hatter's. Huh, the girl had forgotten she was still holding it.

"_You would not believe your eyes.. if ten million fireflies.. Lit up the world as I fell asleep."_

"What the Hell?" When the man laughed at her confusion, she turned a look of consternation on him. Which was quickly melted by his pleased little smile. The realization that he was so sincerely enjoying her enjoyment of what he'd shown her warmed Alice's heart in a lovely new way.

"These are a special kind of lightning bug," he explained. "They're choirflies." Her eyes rounded, mind flashing over the word and understanding that the music was coming from the insects floating around them. _Oh, wow. _How fantastical. It was things like this which populated the imaginations of children who dreamed about Wonderland. It was the first truly wondrous thing she'd seen since arriving. Well, the second anyway.

"_I'd like to make myself believe… that planet Earth turns sloooowly…"_

"How do they know this song?"

"They pick the song out of your head," he explained, tapping his temple. "Why; what are they singing?"

Now she was really confused. "You can't hear it?" He shook his head.

"It's different for everyone." His explanation made sense, she supposed, but there was a mischievous glint in his eye that had nothing to do with reflecting light. "Unless they think two people make a good couple."

Alice rolled her eyes and let out a groan. "Oh God." His head fell back as he laughed at her reaction. "You are _such_ an-"

"Ass?" He beat her to the insult. "You keep saying that and it hurts my feelings."

She snorted at that statement. "I just call 'em like I see 'em."

His eyebrows went up in amusement. "You were lookin'?"

She couldn't help another little eye roll. When he wasn't in a bad mood, the man certainly loved to tease. But, she'd known as much already, hadn't she? His little popped P in the Tea Shop, the impromptu dance as he guided her to the Resistance. Then she had assumed he was having a laugh at her expense, but now she could see that he just liked to laugh period. Not that she wasn't enjoying it, herself, because she was. He was sharp as a tack.

"So, you can hear it, right?" the girl asked.

Hatter nodded. "Yes. Something about fireflies and dancing."

"Oh, you don't know this song, then."

"The Queen only allows what she likes through the Looking Glass. That includes music," the man explained.

"That must suck."

He scoffed softly. "You don't know the half of it. A few years ago, she went through a disco phase. Nothing to be found but Bee Gees albums anywhere in Wonderland."

"Oh Jesus," she chuckled. As funny as that was, her inquisitive mind had caught on a strand of thought and followed it to a question at the end. "Why did they take a song from my head? Why not yours? You're from Wonderland."

Those lips she knew were pink, but just now were washed out by the ethereal glow drew up into a little smirk. "It's a song about fireflies, Alice. Everything in Wonderland has its own sense of irony and humor, even the insects. Besides, I think they just like you better."

"What did they sing the last time?" Idle curiosity.

"Karma Chameleon." This brought on another fit of laughter from the girl. Her hand raised, its intended target her forehead, and her fingertip bumped against a passing lightning bug. She jumped as the thing burst into a tiny shower of sparks.

"Holy shit!" she gasped.

"Careful, Alice!" Hatter admonished, pushing her open hand in towards her body. "They are _fire_flies."

"Wow," she blinked at the place where the little bug had been. "It popped!" He chuckled and shook his head as she reached out a fingertip to "pop" another of the little blinking specks. Again, it exploded into sparks. She giggled. "Cool."

"Should have known you like to play with fire." Something in his tone drew her attention from the tiny, flying sticks of dynamite. His dark eyes somehow shone even in the foxfire glow produced by the choir flies. Again, he lifted his hand, but she never did find out what he intended to do with it. An errant bug drifting between them collided with his knuckle and, startled, Hatter waved it away. That was a mistake as the miniature explosion wafted into the paths of a few more bugs. As each touched one of the embers which was all that remained of their fallen kinsman, they too, ignited. Thus Hatter had set off a chain reaction and with a whoosh, they were surrounded by a ring of tiny bombs going off.

"Whoa! Get down!" The man exclaimed, dropping to the clearing's grassy floor and pulling Alice down with him. They both rolled immediately to face upward as thousands of miniscule rockets burst in the air above them, like the Forth of July but better. Alice had no words, could only watch with wide eyes in childlike wonder. Hatter shifted beside her, slipping out of his jacket and prodding her shoulder. "Here, lay on this."

She rose up just enough that he could slide the leather coat beneath her back, too enraptured by the fireworks display to protest the sweet, but unnecessary gesture. "It's so…" Alice trailed off, no word that came to mind seemed sufficient to describe what he had given her.

"Beautiful," he finished so softly she could barely hear it.

Suddenly, like a switch had been flicked, it was over. The silence deafened her more than the loudest sound. The girl blinked up at the night sky above her, not understanding. A moment before, her vision had been filled beyond capacity with lights and glorious little explosions of color and now the only twinkling above her were the stars in the pitch black curtain of night.

"What happened?" Hatter sat up and looked around, the set of his shoulders in the faint moonlight displaying his alarm for her to see. Alice quickly sat up as well.

"Something must have spooked them." He took her hand and grabbed his jacket, shrugging off the initial anxiousness brought on by the choirflies sudden departure. "Probably bats."

They stood and walked back out of the clearing the way they came, going towards the orange luminosity cast off from the fire pit. Alice glanced back over her shoulder at the now empty clearing. That had been like a dream, so extraordinary, so breathtaking. Something no one on Earth would ever likely see. Something her mother would never see. Was Alice to be the same?

"What's the matter?" Hatter's voice broke her reverie as they broke the tree line, stepping back into Charlie's glade. Alice was too lost in that moment to put her guard back up and looked to the man - her protector, her friend - with naked vulnerability exposed for him to see.

"What will I do," she asked softly. "If I can't get home?"

Hatter gazed back at her, that same determination she'd seen on the hill overlooking the ruined Kingdom now shifting to envelope herself. And mixed with something else. Something that made her stomach tighten in a way that was anything but anxious and nothing like displeasure.

"Then I'll make sure you're okay." His voice was low and smooth, lush like the velvet of the coat he'd loaned her, warm like his chocolate eyes were at that moment. She believed him. She didn't think that he sincerely intended to do his best or would try to watch out for her. Alice _believed_ he would make sure she was okay.

Hatter stepped close to her, his jacket falling to ground forgotten. His hands brushed against the bare skin of her arms, coming to rest gently on her biceps. The smooth metal of his rings contrasting with the slightly rough feel of his hands raised gooseflesh on the girl from neck to knees. He stroked one thumb lightly against her arm and, in blatant disregard of the fire so close by, she shivered. Those deep, dark eyes pulled her in, drowning her more completely than the lake's feeble attempt after their crash.

"I think our luck is finally changing," he said softly. It was a tone that said this was for her ears only, a message Hatter had crafted just for Alice alone. _Our_ luck.

His head dipped down and, dear lord, she thought she might faint. Her butterflies had picked one Hell of a time to get their act together. If Alice had been able to think at all, she might have thought that _this_ was what they were talking about in books and movies, this that she had - oh cruel fates - never felt before. But, probably not; had she been able, the girl would most likely have been thinking: _Oh God, oh God, oh God…_ His lips were scant centimeters from hers and she could taste his breath when she inhaled, like tea sweetened with far too much sugar.

"That's right, it is." The intruding voice was a splash of icy water on her system and Alice went from warm and fluid to cold and stiff in a heartbeat. She lost Hatter's eyes as he turned towards the source of the voice, her own following after his. Across the flames a familiar figure stood, posture tight and chill with anger, a hand she'd thought incapable of harm now clutching a sword.

"Jack."

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**And there we are. Damn that Jack and his bad timing. What did you guys think of the choirflies?**


	13. So Much for Luck

**Wow! Thank you, guys, for all the wonderful feedback. I'm thrilled that you liked the last chapter so much. I was really worried the choirflies would come off as hokey. 3 You all are awesome. Really.**

**Something not so awesome? Jack. But we have to deal with him, so here it is. Appropriate for chapter 13, no?**

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"Hello, Alice," the man's voice was chilly to match his posture, but his eyes were positively frozen - twin chips of glittering ice. He wore a suit similar to the one he'd been wearing the last time she saw him. It seemed so at odds with the three foot length of steel in his hand. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Alice's stomach, only a moment ago filled with joyful butterflies, now felt like a lead weight in her gut. In those few precious moments with Hatter, she had forgotten about Jack. Forgotten everything he meant to her. How despicable. Hatter released her arms, turning to face the newcomer. He pulled her behind himself and, even though she knew Jack wasn't a threat to her, she still felt a little twinge of appreciation for his protectiveness.

"I know what you're thinking," Charlie piped up, drawing both their attention. "How could _anyone _sneak up on _me_? And in my own manner, too."

He sounded chagrinned, trying to make light of the situation. It took the girl a moment to find him - he wasn't standing near the fire, which was where he should have been, given the closeness of his voice. When she saw him, she gasped in outrage. The old paladin was laying on the ground, hands and feet bound.

"Jack, what the fuck?!" she exclaimed. Not that Alice noticed, but it was the first time she had used such language in front of the man. Hatter took Charlie's incapacitation as proof of Jack's ill intentions. He grabbed a good sized stick from the wood pile beside the fire and hurried forward to square off with the prince.

Jack lifted a superior eyebrow. "You think you can take me on with that?" He motioned towards the stick with his sword.

Hatter wasn't intimidated. "I'm not an old man."

This, of course, was highly insulting to the White Knight. "Oi!"

Alice rushed to diffuse the situation. "Hey!" She inserted herself between the two opponents, knowing neither would make a move with her in harm's way.

"Alice, get out of the way," Hatter ordered, reaching for her.

"I wouldn't do that," Jack threatened the darker man, taking a step forward.

"That's enough!" the girl shouted. She went to Jack, pulling the sword from his hand. He gave it up without protest, always the logical one. Of course, he would understand that Hatter was only trying to protect her and she would be displeased - to say the least - if he, Jack, was to use the weapon against her ally. With the blade in hand, Alice felt assured that neither man would be able to kill the other. She didn't bother to take Hatter's stick, knowing he wouldn't make the first move against Jack unless the blonde gave him good cause. And if Jack was that stupid, he deserved a crack in the head.

"Charlie, are you okay?" She asked, hurrying to the fallen gentleman.

"Of course," he replied, as though he hadn't been tied up. The girl set to unknotting the rope Charlie had been bound with.

"I can't believe you did this, Jack," Alice admonished angrily, not looking up from her task. Finally, she gave up and used the confiscated sword to slice through the bindings.

"Who's your friend?" he asked, completely ignoring her reprimand. She looked up sharply, scowling at the entitled tone of his voice.

"A _friend_," she stated firmly, meaning that the prince should stop looking at Hatter like he was some kind of kidnapper.

"Yes, you two looked pretty friendly," the blonde said insinuatingly. Alice felt heat rise in her cheeks. Leaving Charlie rubbing his freed wrists, she stood and stalked closer to Jack, crossing her arms in haughty insult.

"You're not actually jealous, are you?" she challenged. As though he had any right after what'd he'd done to her.

"A little," the man confirmed. Alice's teeth ached a little, she was clenching her jaw so tightly.

"Let me get this straight," she began. "The guy who's engaged to a Duchess is worried about me?" He had a Hell of a lot of gall to even dare act like she was the one who should explain her actions - as questionable as they may have been - after the shit he'd pulled.

"You know that was just an act," he protested softly. His voice drew her notice, quietly pleading with her to believe him, but with Hatter and Charlie there his face was as closed off as it had been in his mother's throne room.

"No, I don't," she countered sharply. A thousand other things bubbled inside her, fighting to escape her lips. Alice wanted to demand answers, wanted to tell the man how much he had hurt her, but couldn't. Not with an audience. Not with Hatter standing right there. Instead, she settled for the one question she could ask with the others watching. "What are you doing here, Jack?"

"I've brought you a horse," he stated, motioning off to the west. "Come, we've a long ride."

Hatter was having none of this. He stepped forward again, catching Alice's arm. Did he really think she had any intention of going off with the Prince of Hearts just this moment? "She's not going anywhere with you," he told the blonde, voice hard as iron and filled with anger.

"You know she can't stay here," Jack retorted. Oh, and she really hated it when people spoke about her like she wasn't right there.

"_She_ will be the one who decides where _she_ goes," Alice snapped. She turned to Hatter, laying her hand over his on her arm. "My father, Hatter," she reminded him softly, gently prying his fingers loose. Then, to Jack, she asked, "Is my dad here, in Wonderland?"

"Yes," Jack confirmed. "He's alive and well and, if you let me, I'll take you to him."

Her heart stopped, then started to pound. Not only was he here, not only did Jack know where he was, but he would bring her to him. "Really?"

Seeing he had her trailing his hook, Jack nodded, stepping towards the girl. "But we'd better get going. You don't have much time."

Had she been thinking clearly, Alice would have seen right through his manipulation. As it was, she wasn't; the idea that she could soon be with her long absent, long missed father dominating her mind. She moved away from Hatter and towards the prince as though drawn by a magnet.

"Not much time?" That was a concern. Was her dad in trouble? Well, more trouble that before?

"We're moving him into the city and, if we hurry, you can see him by dawn," Jack said, gently coaxing her towards leaving with him that instant. And it was working.

"We?" She asked, confused. "What do you mean, 'moving him'?" So, Jack had smuggled her father out of the casino? Or was he never in the casino? She'd never even asked where her parent had been all these years, only assumed.

"I have people helping me," the prince assured her.

Never one to stand idly by, Hatter came up behind Alice. "What people?" he demanded. It was something she, herself, should have asked. But the girl was a puppet on a string, she realized, and Jack was the on in control, using her father to dance her across the stage.

The blonde ignored the other man completely, murky green eyes not even flickering away from hers. "Do you want to see him or not?"

Not the gentlest way of putting it, but that was what it boiled down to. Yes or no, Alice? The answer was a no brainer. She nodded. "Yes, of course."

This did not please Hatter. "Don't tell me you trust this guy," he ground out furiously. He had every right to be upset, after all that Alice had told him. He knew about Jack's lies and had made his position on the prince quite clear that day on the beach. But he had to understand, this wasn't about their relationship, it wasn't about forgiving Jack and taking him back as though nothing had happened.

She turned to her friend and tried to make him understand. "He knows where my father is."

"He'll say anything to get his hands on the ring!" His eyes flashed as he, in turn, tried to make _her_ understand. Alice shook her head.

"But he hasn't asked for the ring," she pointed out. He wasn't there trying to get something out of her, he only wanted to help. "He doesn't _want_ the ring. Do you, Jack?" She turned to him for the affirmation that would put Hatter at ease. Prince he may be, but he wasn't trying to weasel away the Resistance's greatest hope for defeating the Queen.

"Yes, I do." She stopped, mouth open, eyes blinking in total bewilderment.

"You do?" The words passed her lips of their own accord. The girl couldn't believe it.

Hatter's hand slapped against his leg as he huffed beside her, his suspicion vindicated completely. "It's just all an act," he proclaimed. Was it? Or did Jack really think Alice would sell out the whole of Wonderland just for the chance to see her father again? That she would just give over the ring if he asked for it?

"We need the ring to get you home," Jack explained. "The Looking Glass won't work without it."

That much was true. Of course. The ex-Tea Shop owner let out a huff of disbelief and disgust, turning away from the prince's line of bull shit. "Oh… right," Alice said quietly. Her stomach sank. She couldn't do it. The chance to see her father was slipping between her fingers like water. There was no way Alice could give up the ring to Jack. Not now, not even for the thing she wanted most in the world.

Hatter took her words as an agreement and was incensed. "Don't be fooled by this, Alice," he beseeched hotly. "He's working for his mother. Blood and water, you remember?"

She didn't believe that. Not that she had any real reason to trust Jack, not after everything, but she didn't believe he would have gone through all this just to get the ring. It was an overly elaborate plan and riddled with holes. Not that it mattered. She wouldn't be handing the Stone over to the man whatever his motivations. The girl just couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"Then, why am I alone?" Jack asked, arguing against Hatter's accusations, but not looking at the man himself. His eyes stayed on hers. "Why aren't there five hundred Suits at my back? And how did I find you here in the middle of the forest; you think I just followed my nose?"

That was a question worth wondering about, make no mistake. Hatter, unable to keep still, as always, stalked close once more.

"How did you find us?" he demanded.

"You sent for me," the blonde snapped, still not deigning to look at his rival. That stopped everything.

"Come again?" Hatter sounded as confused as Alice felt, standing there, mutely bound in Jack's unwavering gaze.

"I'm the agent who's supposed to escort you to Caterpillar."

Honestly, she hadn't been expecting that. It was a little self-centered, really, to automatically think Jack had been acting solely because of herself. Understandable, but a tad narcissistic. She didn't have time to worry about that now.

The girl found her voice, finally. "You know Caterpillar?"

"Very well." Jack's tone had softened again, now that he was no longer defending himself against Hatter's allegations. "Caterpillar recruited me into the Resistance." It would have been the leader of the Resistance himself who tried to bring the Queen of Hearts' own son into the fold. The Prince would be a precious ally, indeed.

Jack turned away, taking a few steps as he spoke. "That's why I took the ring and escaped to your world. It was supposed to trigger a coup. Unfortunately, well, you saw what happened."

She hadn't understood why he would walk away from her until he said those words. Alice saw what happened alright. _She_ had happened. Jack had entrusted her with the ring, the single most important object in his world and she had nearly cost the Resistance everything.

"But if you give us back the ring." His eyes returned to hers as he offered salvation, a chance to make amends for her terrible mistake. "We can give it another try."

"You want to bring down your mother?" Hatter asked, his voice having lost the heat and hard edge at Jack's revelation.

"I've seen what she's done in close up." The prince spoke without looking at the man who'd posed the question, acting as though he was simply explaining for Alice's benefit. "And I know, perhaps better than anyone, if I don't stop her, she'll destroy Wonderland."

So, Jack, her Jack, was working for the Resistance. She didn't have to choose between what she'd dreamed about for more than half her lifetime and what she knew was the right thing - the only thing - to do. It was such a wonderful gift, she had a little trouble coming to terms with it. Hatter had been right, their luck had changed.

"So, who are you going to trust to get you and your father back home?" Jack inquired, moving to stand before her again. "A Resistance insider and future king, who's already scheduled your return trip through the Looking Glass." There was something in the way he said it that rubbed the girl the wrong way. She'd never known Jack to sound so… full of himself.

"Who cares for you more than anyone else in the world." His voice hushed just slightly as he spoke those words and God, she wanted to believe it. The picture perfect man she'd known dancing behind her eyes, offering the world. Alice was about to say yes; yes to everything he offered (her father, her home, her lover) and anything he asked (the ring she would have given up anyway), when he turned to look at Hatter. Contempt curled his upper lip into the subtlest of sneers. "Or this man?"

Her good will evaporated. How dare he? As though Hatter had not risked everything for her and Wonderland both, as though he had any right to judge her friend - prince or no. Her chest tightened with outrage at his conceit, his arrogance.

She could feel the fight go out of the man at her side. Hatter dropped his stick and step aside, his eyes falling away from the other man in defeat. Alice opened her mouth, starting to turn towards him. She wanted to tell him… something, anything.

"Where is the ring, Alice?" Jack ask softly, but pointedly. Of course, he would. Now that he'd won. The girl looked into his eyes.

"I put it where I knew it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands," she said meaningfully. Two birds with one stone. Alice turned to Hatter. He was startled when she gently took the hat from atop his wild locks, his dark eyes filled with question. She turned the battered top hat over and carefully pulled back the fabric where the lining had come loose, retrieving the ring from its hiding place.

Charlie chuckled from where he stood, off to the side of the whole scene. "Under my very nose."

"Well, well," Jack murmured, taking the Stone when she offered it to him. He walked closer to the pit, inspecting the ring in the light of the fire. _Precious_, a reptilian voice hissed in her mind. The prince did remind her of Gollum just in that moment. An unpleasant thought indeed.

She looked back to Hatter, but his eyes were on his hat in her grasp, brows drawn together just softly. Alice licked her lips, unsure if he was angry with her or not. He took the hat back, his fingers brushing so lightly against hers.

"I wish you all the luck in the world, Alice," he all but whispered.

"You… you're not coming with me?" She couldn't keep the shocked, stung tone from her voice. He was angry, then. He had to understand, she had put the ring there because she knew he would find it, because she wanted him to find it. Because she trusted him.

When he lifted his eyes to hers once more, there was no anger in his gaze. He did understand. But now, she didn't. Could it be he was just glad to be finally rid of her? She wouldn't blame him, after all the damage she'd done. He gave a gentle shake of his head, knowing what she was thinking as surely as if she had spoken the thoughts aloud.

"I don't think I figure in the future king's plans," he explained. Now, it was Alice's turn to shake her head in denial. She looked to Jack seeking his contradiction to that estimation.

"He's coming with us," she said, fully expecting his agreement. She didn't get it.

"Caterpillar was very clear," he explained, putting the ring into an inner coat pocket, patting it to reassure himself it was safely tucked away. "The Resistance will only help you on their terms. You must come alone."

This was the definition of unacceptable. "No."

"No?" All three men had asked the question, in unison, in almost the same disbelieving tone.

"Hatter has lost everything. He risked his life to help me. I'm not just abandoning him," she declared firmly.

"It's for your own safety," Jack assured her reasonably. It was entirely reasonable and entirely not going to happen. "And for your father's."

Her jaw tightened at him using her father as a manipulation device like that. Even if he hadn't meant it that way. "And what if I don't agree to their terms?" she challenged. It would have been weightier if she had not already given over her only bargaining chip. She was only playing on Jack's sense of honor now, on his feelings for her. All the girl could do was pray that was enough.

"Hey," Hatter stepped close, edging his shoulder in front of her to draw her eyes form Jack's. He leaned in, speaking in a softly conspiratorial voice. "I wouldn't want to go with this guy, anyway."

Alice balked. _Like that has anything to do with it?_ "I won't just-"

"Alice, this isn't something you negotiate about," he insisted, his tone and gaze compelling. "You have to do it their way."

You. It was "you" again and she hated it. "But what about you?" the girl demanded tenaciously. She couldn't abide leaving him behind, but he was right. Even if she had anything to bargain with, which she didn't; not anymore.

His eyebrows went up as though her question surprised him. How could he be surprised she was concerned? "Me?" He smiled over her worry, actually smiled and chuckled like she was being silly. The man flipped his hat over in his fingers, placing it smoothly back on his head. "You kiddin'?"

He glanced at Jack like he expected him to share in his humor at her fretting and, when he got no response, he shrugged and looked back to the girl. "I'll be fine."

Fine? He'd be fine? "But-"

"Believe me," Hatter interrupted her gently, his voice losing its jokey lightness. "You're better off with this guy."

How could he say that? How could he _believe_ that, which she could see he did. He honestly thought she would be better off with Jack. "Hatter-"

"Go." It was a single word spoken in a soft, but unquestionable command. He wasn't giving her permission to leave him behind, he was ordering her to go with Jack. To go home. He turned before she could say anything and walked away, knowing if he stayed she would only continue to protest and he wasn't about to let her lose this opportunity.

Alice watched silently as he vanished down one of the paths that led from the clearing. Hatter's main goal in helping her had always been to get her back through the Looking Glass to her own world. He would do what was necessary to achieve that end, regardless of her own wishes, which made him the best kind of friend. She would go, because he told her to. But that didn't mean she had to be happy about it; didn't mean she had to like him for it. He hadn't even given her the chance to say thank you.

* * *

** I know, I know. I gave some serious thought to changing it and having Hatter and Charlie end up going with Alice and Jack, but in the end I decided agaisnt it. I just couldn't rob Hatter of his big knight in shining armor moment. But at least Alice tried to put up a fight, right? Sorry.**


	14. Dreams Fall to Nightmares

**That Jack, what a pain in the ass, eh? Well, now we find ourselves headed to the Hospital of Dreams and Alice's father. I changed it up just a little, hope you enjoy it.**

* * *

"Come, Alice, we have to hurry," Jack urged gently, but Alice all but ignored him.

"Charlie, are you alright?" she asked the old knight, who nodded.

"The only permanent injury is to my pride," he chuckled. When he reached up to rub the back of his skull, however, the girl was unappeased by his assurances. She walked to him, pulling his hand away and bade him to let her see. Though obviously embarrassed, Charlie complied, bending forward. Very lightly running her fingers through the man's downy white locks, she felt a rather large knot on his head. She scowled at the prince.

"Was this really necessary, Jack?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your friend, but when he came running through the forest, shouting for battle and wielding a sword…" he trailed off insinuatingly and Charlie's blush deepened. So, he had finally gotten his sword out of that sheath, only to be disarmed by his opponent.

"Because he was trying to protect me," she pointed out, still seething over the injury he had dealt the two hundred and ten year old man.

"I am sorry, sir," Jack said to the White Knight, laying a hand over his heart and tilting his head forward in a small bow. It was enough to placate the paladin, but not the girl still fussing over him.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I swear, My lady, I am entirely well and fit." She had no choice but to leave him be after that; continuing to fret like a mother hen would only injure his dignity in addition to his head.

"Charlie…" Alice began, drawing him further away from Jack and speaking in low tones. "You've done so much to help me."

"It is my honor, My lady," he insisted firmly, with a little nod of his head.

"Thank you. For everything." She wrapped her arms around the man then, knowing this was the last time she would ever see him. Her throat tightened, but she tried not to let the tears fall, understanding it would only upset him to see her so upset.

"You are welcome, Justalice," he replied gently, returning her embrace. She let out a laugh at the name.

"I'm gonna miss you, Charlie," she smiled at him with glittering eyes as they parted. "Take care of yourself, please; for me." He nodded and bowed to her wish, his own eyes suspiciously bright in the firelight. She turned back to her new escort, knowing if she didn't leave now she would break down and cry. "Okay. Let's go."

Jack led her to a pair of auburn mares, saddled and waiting near the edge of the city. She accepted his help in mounting the animal, hoping she could copy Hatter well enough to control the thing. As for Hatter, she could feel his eyes on her the entire time, until they were well away from the Kingdom of the Knights. There was so much he hadn't given her a chance to tell him; she hadn't even been able to say goodbye. Her chest ached horribly and she felt sick. It was all she could do to not wheel the horse around and go back. She couldn't, he had told her to go and go she must. It was what the girl was supposed to do, had been trying to do since the beginning - going home. So, why did it hurt so much?

Because Hatter was watching, she didn't let herself cry until they were far enough from the ruins that he would not longer be able to see her. Silent tears streamed down her face as she followed Jack - his form outlined in silvery moonlight. It was strange how quickly she had gone from hating Wonderland and thinking of nothing but getting out, to crying because she had to leave. And it wasn't the choirflies or the talking purple cats, either. It was her friends.

Jack was beautifully mute, for which Alice was exceedingly grateful. She did not want to have to deal with speaking to him, not when she was so angry and sad. Her tears had dried by the time they reached the halfway point and stopped at a creek to water the horses. Only then did the future king break his silence.

"Who was that man?" he asked. He must have been holding that question in since the second Hatter had walked out of the clearing.

"I told you who he was," the girl said irritably. "Hatter. He's the one who's been keeping me safe the last two days. He's the reason the ring is in your pocket. And if the Resistance manages to reclaim Wonderland from your mother, he's the one you have to thank for it."

Even in the moonlight, she could see that her words had struck home with him. Good. Maybe he'd start showing Hatter the respect he deserved instead of acting like a jealous, spoiled brat.

"I'm sorry I insulted your friend," the prince apologized, his tone sincere. But she didn't let up.

"I'm not the one who deserves the apology," she remarked, turning away to watch the reflection of the moon sparkle on the shallow rushing waters.

"When this is over, I will find the man and make every effort to make up for my behavior," he promised. She nodded. Jack was a man of his word. Or was he? Hadn't he spent their entire time together lying right to her face?

"So, who's the Duchess?" Alice asked tightly, turning back to watch his face as he answered.

"My mother's creature," the blonde replied, looking her in the eye so that she might believe him. "An arrangement. I have no feelings for her, nor she for me."

"No?" The Duchess was beautiful, tall and svelte, glamorous and well bred - in short, everything Alice was not. It was hard enough for her to understand why Jack had chosen her when he was just a sales executive, but a prince?

The man stepped closer, his expression one of sincere longing and tenderness. "My heart belongs to you, Alice, completely. You believe that don't you?"

She took a breath, taking his words into her and holding them, turning them over and over before releasing the air once more. "I don't know, Jack. I want to, but all this… I can't even sit and think long enough to figure anything out."

"I'm sorry for putting you through this," he apologized, taking hold of her hand and covering it with his other. "I promise, once you are home safe, I will give you all the time you need."

The girl nodded. His touch didn't thrill her the way it had two days before, when she thought he was perfect. But she couldn't rush to judgment, not yet. There was still so much to be explained, to talk over. She couldn't take anything at face value, especially here in Wonderland where nothing could be taken for granted.

"You must be freezing," the future king remarked, releasing her hand, obviously having noticed her icy fingers. He shrugged off his suit jacket and held it for her to put on. The garment was warm from his body and smelled like him, the same rich scent she knew so well. It still made her want to sneeze. She longed for the lush velvet coat, but that was Hatter's and she'd left it behind.

The second half of their journey was as wordless as the first. When they reached the city limits, Jack and Alice dismounted and made their way into the crumbling metropolis. It turned out, the city _did_ have a bottom after all, but, unfortunately, they weren't going to stay on solid ground for long. The prince guided his charge to an elevator that took them up and up and up, high above the ground where the only pathways were narrow strips of concrete and grass and nothing stood between you and oblivion.

"Why is the city like this?" she asked as they traveled upwards.

"The tea has spoiled the people," Jack explained. "We've become even more obsessed with instant gratification than your own society. No one wants to wait to do things properly anymore. When a building is too old or out of fashion, a new one is simply built on top of it."

"While the city rots from below?" Christ, the place was even more of a death trap than she'd even guessed.

"Another of my mother's great contributions to Wonderland," Jack nodded. "You see why I'm with the Resistance. She must be stopped before it's too late."

She did understand. Jack, like Hatter and Charlie and herself, was only trying to do the right thing. Might have done if not for Alice. The elevator doors opened and Jack led her carefully through the dying metropolis. The prince knew about her fear of heights, if not to the degree that her mother and Hatter did, and held her hand as they traversed the high wire web of pathways. He didn't choose an easier route for her, however, didn't keep looking back to check and see if she was okay. Of course, they were in a hurry and she was a big girl, she could handle it.

"This way," Jack said, nodding towards a building at the end of the walk they were following. It was huge and well maintained, done in red brick and cream colored plaster. Set high above the main entrance was a massive clockwork, the gears open to the world.

"What is this place?" Alice asked. It was certainly one of the most interesting structures she'd seen. Not so strange as the casino, but still. The clockwork mechanism was quite impressive.

"The Hospital of Dreams," the prince told her, then headed them into the building. "Stay close by me. And keep your mark covered. If the inmates realize what you are, I won't be able to help you."

Alice stopped. "What do you mean you won't be able to help me?" Surely he hadn't meant that the way it sounded. "You'd just leave me to the wolves, Jack?"

"No, of course not," he protested, a slight air of impatience to his demeanor. "You'll understand in a moment."

He urged her forward and she let him pull her inside. Not for the first time in the last twenty minutes, she wished Hatter was there with them. The unease in the pit of her stomach was telling her she shouldn't be doing this, but she had to. Her father was so close. She couldn't let anything stop her now.

The doors of the hospital opened into a great, vast hall of a lobby, large enough to contain her whole house two or three times over again. The only thing in the empty space - which was floored with amber shades of marble and lit by lamps set into the ceiling so far above them, the light had dimmed by the time it reached the floor to the point it barely cast a glow on the tiles - was a receptionist's desk. Behind the desk sat a woman, a bit older than Alice and resembling a nurse from the forties. The desk was decorated with small glass boxes, each one containing a different type of insect mounted on a board with pins and neatly labeled.

The receptionist was on the phone, popping her gum boredly and poking at a very large, very live cockroach in a plastic dish. Jack brought them to a halt before the desk and waited quietly, but anxiously for the nurse to finish her call. Eventually, taking her sweet time about it, the woman hung up the receiver and looked to the prince.

"He's on the third floor," she said without even being asked a question. So, "he" knew Jack was coming, which led Alice to believe it was Caterpillar they were now going to meet. Even though they only went up three floors, the ride in the hospital's elevator seemed somehow longer than the one up from the city floor. On the third level, Jack guided their way unerringly. He'd been here before. Down a series of hallways and, finally, into a room marked Pompeian Pool. There was a strange smell in the air, but no chlorine, which she had always and would always associate with pools.

Alice stopped on the threshold to the room, which indeed housed a small swimming pool. What caused her to pause was the sight of a man in the middle of the pool. Not odd, in its own right, but the fact that he was sitting in a rowboat was a little off. The boat was loaded with various junk, books, a lamp and type writer, gramophone , and… a hookah? Well, he was called Caterpillar. The little man in the boat was not what Alice would have imagined the leader of the Resistance to look like. He was small and bird-like with a beak of a nose and a scrawny neck. His hair was a nest of gray cobwebs tangled atop his head, his eyes would have been beady were it not for the thick coke bottle glasses he wore. He was dressed in a great, green overcoat that looked like someone had sewn it out of the comforter off a bed.

The man looked up as Jack and Alice entered the room. "Do you have the ring?" Unlike Charlie, this old man sounded old, his voice quavering and dull.

"Yes." Jack started to reach for his coat, still worn by Alice, but the man in the boat stopped him.

"No, no," he said quickly. "Should the moment arise, I must be able to swear under oath that I have never _laid eyes on it_." A small, but important exploitation of the difference between what one says and what one means. He pointed at Alice. "Ask the girl to come closer."

"Alice," Jack touched her arm as though she had not been standing there and able to hear the old man the entire time. "Come closer."

_Oookay._ Weird, but she didn't protest, just moved with the prince to the side of the pool, parallel to the little rowboat. The old man took a hit off his hookah and the girl rolled her eyes. Just what she needed, a pot head controlling her fate.

"Oh… you're not as tall as I imagined."

_Well, you're not as sober as I imagined._ She wanted to say it, really, really badly, but didn't. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides and tried not to judge a book by its cover, no matter how bad that cover looked.

"Ask her if she's scared," the man told Jack. The blonde actually turned to her to follow this ridiculous command.

"Alice, are y-"

"I can hear him, Jack," she snapped, cutting him off sharply. Then, turning her irritation on the weirdo in the raft. "I'm standing _right here. _If you want to know something, ask _me._"

"When did you last see your father?" Not the question she was expecting, but fine.

"When I was ten."

The scrawny man showed no reaction. "Ten. A long time ago," he said, almost without inflection.

"Where is he?" That's what she wanted to know, _all_ she wanted to know from this person. Instead of answering her, he just took another hit off his hookah. Alice turned to Jack, eyes flashing in burgeoning outrage. The prince laid a hand over his heart, giving her an apologetic look that begged for patience at the same time as forgiveness on the old doper's behalf.

"_This_ is Caterpillar?" she hissed the question.

Jack shook his head. Thank Vilnius! "This man is called Turtle. Caterpillar is with your father."

"You're father is a very difficult man to reach," the words came out with a puff of blue-green smoke. "We've been tracking him for a long time, but never got close enough to pop the question. Never once." He shrugged, the first sign of affect from him since their arrival. "And, do you know what it is we want to ask him?"

Alice frowned, brows furrowing in confusion. She looked to Jack, who had no answers in his eyes that she could see, and back to Turtle. "No." How the Hell would she know?

"Not even ready to hazard a little guess?" The girl huffed out a breath of annoyance and looked to the prince again.

"What the Hell is he talking about?"

But the old nut answered her instead. "Horizons, my dear. I'm talking about bright new horizons." She was about to tell him she wasn't his "dear", when the man added, "and that's where you come in."

"Where do I come in?" She wasn't following.

"When you first met Jack, did you think it was a happy accident?" Turtle inquired meaningfully. "The fickle finger of fate?"

That stopped her. Something was going on here, something big and she, apparently, was the only one out of the loop. "Jack? What is he saying?" she demanded quietly, annoyance overshadowed by confusion.

"Alice, there is something you must see before-"

"No!" she snapped, her voice raising as the feeling that she had been even further in the dark about what was going on between her and Jack than she knew grew inside her heart. "You tell me right now. If it wasn't just chance, what was it?"

"Please, you need to see so you can understand," he insisted, his expression entreating. "Trust me, just a little longer. I promise it will all be clear."

"When have you given me one God damn reason to trust you?" she challenged hotly, jabbing her finger towards him.

"He brought you here, didn't he?" Turtle chimed in with his unwelcome two cents. The frail old man had rowed his boat to the side of the pool and climbed out. The weirdo had commented on her height, but he wasn't even as tall as Alice!

She was so _sick_ of Wonderlanders. "Just show me what you want and then take me to my father," she ground out. Turtle nodded and shuffled away down the hall, Alice and Jack - separated by a few feet of air and miles of anger and betrayal - trailing behind. The trio entered a ward bearing the signage for Emotional Overload.

"You see, the effects of your powerful emotions on our frail senses are devastating," Turtle proclaimed, leading the little oyster passed glass fronted cells. Each cell held a patient, each patient was a new and different kind of twisted wrong. A woman sitting at a table, upside down, on the ceiling; a man literally bouncing off the walls like a superball; another sitting in the middle of his cell, in a chair, shaking and chewing his lips as he held a wrapped gift in his lap - the edge of the ribbon bow was pinched between his fingers but he never moved to open it.

"Patient 243 couldn't get the precious high of Flying High out of her system," he said, gesturing at the closest cell, where a woman was suspended by nothing in mid air, facing down and flailing her arms as though she were falling. Behind her, a screen scrolled the same bit of sky over and over, adding to the illusion. Alice had to quickly look away, the sight making her feel queasy. "So we're bringing her back down in a controlled environment."

They moved on and the girl was ever so grateful. The next stop was before a man, a giant, naked man who barely fit in his room.

"Patient 671 drank to much Self Importance, so we're shrinking his considerable ego little by little, back to its original size." They continued on through the new age house of horrors. "We're all vulnerable. Mix the wrong feelings together, the right kind of bad with the wrong kind of good, and you'll wind up with a total breakdown."

Alice shook her head. "This is all fascinating and horrifying, but what does it have to do with me?"

Turtle didn't answer and neither did Jack, they just kept walking and Alice had no choice by to go, too. The door at the end of this corridor opened out onto a large courtyard. The sun was starting to lighten the sky from indigo to violet-gray and she could just make out the tall hedgerow that lined the court. The rest of the building had somehow vanished, leaving just the open sky, and Alice barely noticed. Maybe she was getting used to the inexplicableness that was Wonderland.

"The oysters, your people are contaminating our world," the old man declared.

"I'm sure we're all very sorry for the inconvenience," she retorted with heavy sarcasm. He ignored her comment.

"They must go back, dead or alive, before it's too late."

"I'm not going another step until you tell me what is going on." She made good on her word and stopped in the middle of the courtyard path and refused to budge. It didn't seem to bother Turtle in the slightest. The man was downright robotic.

"Your father is the only one who can set them free," he told her.

Alice could only stare, completely mystified. "How?"

"Our undercover operatives successfully smuggled him here in the night. It's the most dangerous operation we've ever mounted."

"That's not what I asked." If he didn't start giving her some answers, she was going to wring his scrawny, little neck.

"But it is," Turtle contradicted her. "You asked to see your father. He is here." Alice's anger didn't evaporate, but it seemed unimportant when the man waved a hand towards a nearby patio. Her father was here, he was only feet away. "I must warn you, he's not the same man you knew as a child."

She instinctively knew he didn't mean older and grayer. Whatever it was had nothing to do with a simple matter of the passage of time. "What do you mean?"

"He's- how can I put it…. Stuck." She had no idea what that meant. In Wonderland, it could mean anything. "We're hoping you can help clear away his cobwebs." The cryptic man shuffled off toward the patio.

"I don't understand," she insisted. It was the most frustratingly incoherent conversation she'd ever held and her head had started to pound. Jack finally decided to come clean.

"I came to your world to find you, Alice, because we need your help."

The last vestige of hope she had for her and her Jack crumbled to dust in her heart. Hatter had been right all along, he'd only been off on the details. Jack had been using her, lying to her to achieve his own ends. Turtle said something, but she didn't hear it over the blood rushing in her ears.

"So, everything we had… was about my dad?" He'd found her and manipulated her, made her want him, made her care for him.

"It wasn't an act, Alice. I really do love you," the prince proclaimed. He seemed trapped between trying to make amends with her and do what the Resistance needed to be done. "But you have to understand, your father holds the key to our future."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" she shouted at the blonde, tears glittering in her eyes. That was the first time Jack had said he loved her, the very first time, and he hadn't even paused. The declaration had been cast aside like nothing, so he could put her back on the track he'd laid out even before that day they'd first met.

The future king's expression was pleading and anxious. "I'm sorry for wh-"

"For lying to me?" she cut him off sharply, stalking closer. She wanted to hurt him and she knew she could physically, but, unfortunately, she had more self control than that. "For manipulating me and using me?"

"Would you have believed him if he'd told you the truth?" Turtle butted in.

She spun towards the old weakling, nails biting into the flesh of her palms her hands were clenched so tightly. "How about you stay the fuck out of this?" she barked acidly.

"Alice," Jack tried again, but again was denied his chance to speak.

"I might have believed you if you'd told me you knew where my father was," she told him. If he hadn't mentioned another world and magical mirrors. She could have forgiven that kind of deception, but what he had done to her was nothing short of betrayal.

"You're right," the prince conceded miserably. "I should have been more honest, but I can't turn back the clock." That was it? That was his apology? I'm sorry, but it's just too damn bad?

"You… you bastard." She dashed a hand at the furious, hurt tears that splashed against her cheeks.

"Please, Alice." Jack's green eyes weren't so murky now, clear and bright like young oak leaves, and filled with pleading guilt. "Help us."

"Our _world_ depends on it," Turtle added some perspective.

The girl turned away from both of them, walking away a little into the courtyard. Her stomach was knotted so tight, she didn't think it would ever feel normal again. Her head throbbed, pulse pounding in her ears. Obviously, from the look on his face and the waver in his voice, he felt bad about what he'd done - what he felt he had to do - but that didn't change the fact that he had done it. She felt stupid, so stupid for ever believing Jack had cared for her, had wanted her. It was all an act to get her here. She meant nothing.

Not nothing. She was the possible key to the salvation of Wonderland. Or so the Resistance believed. Alice, herself, wasn't so sure. Hadn't the Queen come to power before the advent of emotion tea? Hadn't she reclaimed that power once already? However, it wasn't in the girl's nature to stand idly by when her help was needed. Cheshire Cat had said the ring did more than power the Looking Glass, so without it, perhaps the Queen could be taken down once and for all by the Resistance. The cat had also told her to do what she thought was right and helping Wonderland despite the way Jack had abused her was the right thing.

Had Alice known that _she_ was the bargaining chip she'd had to use over the Resistance, she never would have let Hatter and Prince Jack talk her into leaving the former Tea Shop owner and White Knight behind. Then again, perhaps it was for the best that she had. Once Charlie learned of Jack's dishonorable treatment of his fair Lady, the paladin would have been sure to demand satisfaction. That wouldn't end well. And, to be perfectly honest, she was glad Hatter wasn't there to see his belief that her lover had been using her all along proven correct; didn't want him to see it break her the way it had.

"I'll help," she said finally, wiping at her cheeks and suppressing the pain in her chest. "But not for you." She just wanted to make that clear to his royal highness. She didn't even look at him as Turtle led the way up onto the patio. The old man pressed a button set into the railing and the patio expanded outward, revealing a group of men. Ah, Wonderland.

There were four in all. Three wore yellow vinyl lab coats, but the fourth was dressed in long, black, flowing robes. He was the tallest person she had seen on this side of the Looking Glass and hard to forget, even without the weird ensemble topped by the tri-lobed clubs' cap. For an instant, Alice though that it had all been a trick, that Jack really was working for his mother, but Ten dispatched that thought quickly.

"Hello, again, Alice," he said politely, laying a hand over his heart. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I am Caterpillar."

That explained how the Resistance had been able to contact the Jack Heart. Their lead man was the right hand of the Queen herself. It had to take singular dedication to his cause for the man to hold onto that charade, lying to the face of someone so formidable as the Queen of Hearts. Risky, too, as any small amount of displeasure could have cost him his head at the edge of the Vorpal Blade.

She nodded to the black clad man with little emotion. Looking at his companions, it took Alice a moment to realize what she was looking at -who she was looking at - and then it occurred to her that it was one moment too long. The curly brown hair, the hazel eyes… she should have seen it the instant she looked at him.

"Daddy!" she gasped like a child, rushing toward the man.

Her father's sharp, "Who's this?" brought her up short and she skidded to a stop a few feet from him.

"Daddy, it's me," the girl, sounding very much like a little girl, insisted. The man didn't even acknowledge her.

"Another one of your tricks, Jack Heart?" he asked the Prince. Alice didn't understand. This was her father, she'd have known it blindfolded, but he was treating her like… like he didn't even know her.

"Don't you know your own daughter?" Turtle questioned her father, which brought an incredulous laugh from the man.

"Daughter?" His tone judged the concept as preposterous. Alice's heart, so bright and filled with joy, began to dim and crack anew.

"The White Rabbit took you from her world years ago, Carpenter," Ten - Caterpillar - informed her dad, using a name that wasn't his. "Your memories were adjusted to suit the Queen."

"I'm supposed to believe this?" Carpenter, really Hamilton, scoffed. The girl stepped towards him, eyes welling with fresh tears.

"We've missed you so much," she said, a deep longing in her voice. "It's been so hard on Mom."

"Mom?" The cracks in her poor, abused heart grew.

"Carol," Alice explained. "Your wife."

Carpenter chuckled, looking between the girl and the men of the Resistance before him. "You really think this charade is going to turn me against the Queen?"

Alice had forgotten it was her job to jog her father's memory, so he could set the oysters free and save Wonderland. She didn't care. All she wanted was her dad to look at her and know her, and _know_ her.

"Don't you remember me? Don't you remember anything?" she demanded, voice hitching in her throat.

"I remember my work at the institute; bioreductive enzymes, chemically reduced synesthesia, shadow theory," he replied. Wonderland memories, nothing of home.

"What about your family?" she tried, desperately, shattering inside with each denial. "Our… our little yellow house?"

"I lived-" he stopped, brows drawing together in consternation as though he couldn't catch the thought he was trying to express. Alice's hopes lifted once more, painfully, dangerously high. "I _live_ in an apartment; alone."

She frantically searched her mind for something, anything that might be meaningful to her father. Things he loved, things he hated. "Ray? You remember him? He was your friend and partner in the hobby shop" - the shop her father had owned and loved. "-and you used to go fishing on his boat all th-"

"What is the point of all this?" Carpenter demanded of his captors sharply, but the girl went on, almost without thought.

"You eat grapefruit and wheat germ for breakfast, even though it's disgusting," she insisted. "And… and on Sundays, we go to brunch and you throw chickpeas at the ducks." Everything was starting to run together.

"Your mother," her father interjected, bringing her pleas to an end. He paused, again a thought seeming to elude him. "Your mother will be very upset when she hears about this, Jack Heart." The cracks in Alice's heart met and widened, the too damaged organ falling to pieces inside her.

"You… don't even know wh-who I am…" she whimpered, the truth finally sinking in. Oblivious to the men around her, the girl sank to the ground, broken and finished. Jack rushed to her, laying comforting hands on her shoulders. She was too far gone in her sorrow to even want to protest his touch.

Carpenter stepped forward, reaching out to the girl. "Don't cry, jellybean." Alice sobbed, the nickname crushing her ribs.

"Jellybean?" Turtle repeated curiously. "Is that your special name for Alice?"

She gasped and looked up at her father, eyes wide. He remembered her. He remembered _something_ at least. She nodded quickly, hope springing anew from the ashes. "That's what you used to call me."

Carpenter/Hamilton looked down at the girl, his daughter, in bewilderment. She could see in those hazel eyes she had missed so much the conflicting emotions and thoughts battling within him. She pulled his watch from her arm and pushed it into his still extended hand. He took the object, looking it over as though he'd never seen such a thing before.

"What is it?" he asked softly. Alice allowed Jack to help her up so she could move closer.

"It's your watch," she explained. The man shook his head.

"I've never worn a watch," he insisted, looking to her with confused, almost frightened eyes. "We don't need them here."

She tapped a fingernail against the crystal. "It's kind of broken now, but it never really kept good time anyway. Mom gave it to you, so you didn't seem to mind." She took the watch from his hand and slipped it onto her father's wrist, snapping the clasp in place. Something about seeing the watch on his arm made her feel like a wrong had been righted. "There."

Her father looked into her eyes. It was almost like watching a flower bloom, his intense gaze slowly opening like the blossom's petals unfurling. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak and she knew what he would say. "Al-"

"Hold it, right there!" came a shout from the patio steps, shattering the spell. The whole party spun to face the interruption as a dozen or more Suits flooded up onto the patio, followed by the sinister Mad March. A gunshot rang out and her father - because he _was_ her father, he _did_ remember her - pulled her against his chest and shielded her with his body against any threat. They were surrounded in an instant, guns pointed at every head. The Suits and assassin were accompanied by the smaller club, Number Nine, as jittery and nervous as ever.

"Are you alright, C-carpenter?" he asked. Alice was shocked when her father stiffened and pushed her away, stepping back from her. She turned to face him and found herself eye to eye with the stranger once more.

"No," she whispered the denial. Not again.

"Fine. They kidnapped me," he explained, gesturing to Caterpillar. "Tried to turn me against the Queen with some cockamamie story about being this girl's father."

When her father motioned towards Alice, Nine's eyes widened. He nodded and hurriedly pulled Carpenter away from the Resistance men. "We have a Scarab waiting," he told the man, leading him from the patio. The girl moved to follow, but a pistol aimed between her eyes stopped her.

"Don't go!" she cried pitifully and was ignored. Her father never even glanced back as he disappeared down the steps.

Mad March chuckled at Caterpillar and the others, which sounded incredibly disturbing in his robotic voice. "I'm a little disappointed. I expected a bit more of a struggle." If he could have smirked with his bunny face, he would have been doing so now.

"I picked up your trail outside the city," he told Jack snidely. "Excuse me, but you weren't that difficult to track." He motioned to the Suits nearest the tall man to seize him. "And the mysterious Caterpillar. Under the old cow's nose all along. She's gonna have to come up with something extra special for you."

Ten's jaw tightened, but he didn't struggle. March moved to stand before him. If not for the long ears, they would have been about even in height. "I've been waiting a long time to bring down the Resistance."

"You'll just have to keep waiting," Caterpillar said. He nodded to Turtle who pulled a small mushroom from his pocket. Before the Suits could stop him, the little man popped the fungus into his mouth and swallowed, disappearing into a puff of blue-green smoke. As many weird things as Alice had seen in Wonderland, that was still pretty impressive and she wasn't the only one startled by it, either. So, they were captured and the ring was back in the hands of the Queen -or would be very shortly, but the Resistance would go on to fight another day.

The rabbit-headed murderer didn't comment on Turtle's escape. With no real face, there was no way to tell what he was thinking, but he appeared unperturbed. Maybe he was glad about the turn of events, as it would allow him to continue hunting and killing, his two favorite things. With Caterpillar in hand, he turned his attention to the emotionally destroyed girl. "Where's Hatter?"

Alice glared at the creature that had once been a monster that had once been a man. Her heart and soul might have been eviscerated, but nothing else had changed. "It'll be a cold day in Hell before I tell you anything," she all but hissed. March moved closer and Alice readied herself for a fight. He was not getting that knife near her throat again. But he just stopped and chuckled once more.

"I'll find him eventually," he promised, unconcerned. Then, with sadistic enjoyment said, "I'd finish what I started, but the Queen wants to take care of you herself. She'll split you wide open with that sword of hers and take your head off like a scythe to wheat. The thing can slice through anything, so maybe it won't even hurt. If you're lucky."

She tried not to react to his words, but the imagery was staggering. It would be the Queen's prerogative to kill Alice herself. And, with the amount of trouble she had cause the monarch, the girl feared it would not be quick and painless, no matter how sharp the blade. Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, March ordered the Suits to lead their prisoners away.

The trip back through the hospital was silent as death, the patients and staff staring at the little procession curiously. As they passed the reception area, Alice stopped in horror. The woman who had been sitting at the desk, playing with her cockroach had either not given Mad March the information he had wanted fast enough or was just unlucky enough to have caught his homicidal fancy. She was dead, pinned to the wall like one of the bugs under glass on her desk. Pens had been driven through her forearms and shins, a letter opener plunged through the center of her chest. The woman's head lolled to the side limply, the phone receiver dangling from its cord wrapped around her neck, eyes open and staring as thickening blood slowly dripped from her now asphyxia-blue lips onto the hospital-blue uniform.

Thankfully, the Suit in charge of the girl dragged her forward, taking the grotesque visage from her sight. Despite her fear of heights, Alice was oh, so grateful to be out of the building, even if it meant standing on the edge of the precipice. The only thing good about being flanked by a small army of Suits was that she didn't have to look at the drop off as they made their way back through the city to where ever the Scarab was waiting to bring them all to the cruel judgment of the Queen of Hearts.

On the outside, the girl's face was stoic and closed off, not wanting to give an inch to her captors and especially not Mad March. Inside, however, she was a black, swirling tumult of emotion. Her father had been so close and was gone again, gone forever now. Her mother would never know what happened to either of them. They'd lost the ring and the Resistance's big opportunity to set Wonderland to rights again. Not to mention she was very likely going to die in a rather horrible way within hours. At least her friends were relatively safe. Hatter would no longer be hunted by the Resistance as he had given up the ring. She didn't even want to imagine how poor Charlie would react upon hearing of her untimely demise. So much for the Alice of Legend.

Hindsight being twenty/twenty, she now understood that she had not followed the Cheshire Cat's advice after all. Going with Jack had been the wrong choice and the girl had known that from the start, but let herself be persuaded anyway. Foolish. It was too late now to change anything, no matter how much she wished it weren't so. Stupid girl. The Suits headed between two buildings, having to thin out into single file. An Ace before her, Mad March at her back, Alice followed obediently. There was nothing else she could do.

"Ya!" For an instant, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her as a horse galloped out of nowhere carrying her knight in shining… leather?

"Hatter!" she cried. "No!" The damned fool! He'd followed her and Jack into the city. With sword flashing in the sickly light of the city, he charged into the group of Aces, slashing at them valiantly. The men were taken unawares and too surprised to even take out their hostered weapons.

"Charlie!" Hatter shouted, but no reinforcement came. The Suits crowded around poor terrified Guinevere and pulled her champion from his steed, taking him hard to the ground. Alice darted forward before she could be restrained, rushing towards the melee. She grabbed the arm of the Suit nearest the edge of the scuffle and yanked it up behind his back, hearing the bone break under her assault. The man yelled in pain, staggering away when she shoved him aside and moved on to the next one.

"Hatter!" She was frantic, wild, throwing herself into the battle with all she had. It wasn't enough.

"Alice!" The girl knew in the back of her mind that Jack and Caterpillar were calling her name, but the only voice she heard was Hatter's. She felt an Ace's jaw dislocate with the force of her strike, but before she could take him down completely, a heavy blow landed on the back of her skull. Flashing white pain washed over her vision and the world tilted wrongly. Her hearing was suddenly muffled, like everything was reaching her ears through a thick wall of cotton. Alice heard Jack shout her name, but much louder she heard a roar of pure bestial fury.

Just before the world went black altogether, Mad March's inhuman voice slipped through her senses. "Well, well. What a nice surprise."

"No," she whispered weakly as the abyss claimed her, unaware that she'd even spoken the word at all. _Hatter…_

**Okay, so... I was disappointed with the Mini's Caterpillar. He's so depressing and apathetic. Seemed more like the Mock Turtle, in my opinion. Plus, how did that little weirdo ever get to Jack in the first place? I thought Caterpillar should be someone more impressive. Hope you guys liked my choice.**


	15. Empire Strikes Back

**Our heroes all kind of failed hard in the last chapter, didn't they? Tsk tsk.**

* * *

Alice slowly came to, laying on some thick, luxurious carpeting. She opened her eyes and they instantly snapped shut against the painful light it let it, which seemed to pierce straight through the optic nerve and into her brain. Her brain that was already a ball of agony inside her skull and trying valiantly to break its way out. She groaned, which didn't hurt as much as the light, but still was no picnic. As her jumbled thoughts coalesced into something more herself, the throbbing pain narrowed to a burning ache on the back of her head.

Instead of coming in one big rush, her last memories dribbled back into her mind in a steady stream of playback. Jack, Turtle, Caterpillar and her father. Mad March and the Suits. Hatter. Oh, no… The girl forced her eyelids apart. She was inside a spherical cage wrought of some red metal, wrapped in a kind of clear casing. The film distorted the world outside her little bird cage, but Alice could easily recognize where she was: the throne room of the Queen of Hearts's airship. Jack was handcuffed, standing where Alice had stood when she was first brought before the Queen. Beside him was Caterpillar. And no one else.

Her chest exploded in a pain a thousand times greater than the one in her skull had been. Mad March had finally gotten his hands on Hatter and Alice had been unable to save him. There was only one outcome for this too monstrous turn of events. Hatter… was dead. And it was all because of Alice. She was too sick with grief and guilt to scream, as she wanted, as her body pleaded with her to do. She could only moan pathetically as she sobbed wretchedly into the carpet. She cursed herself, Jack, whatever gods were listening. Charlie, poor cowardly Charlie had run and now drew a curse for himself along with her pity. How would he ever make his peace with the fallen Knights now? Happily ever after did not exist, not even in Wonderland.

There were others in the throne room, but that made no difference to Alice, even when they started to applaud. It was a cruel fate, this, having to live through the fall out of the villain winning the day. Mad March's words echoed in her ears and Alice could only welcome them. Death at the end of the Vorpal Blade seemed less a terrifying end than a merciful release.

"What is she doing in that thing?" The Queen of Heart's superior voice was as distorted as the view when filtering into her little bubble.

"She's a contaminant." Alice need not open her eyes to know that this was the King who answered in a quiet tone, for the Queen's ears alone.

"What?"

"Jack discovered that she's Carpenter's daughter," the King explained. "He went to fetch her so that she could turn him against you. You know, wake him up."

"So, that's why he wanted the awful creature," the Queen sneered. "Evil boy."

"We have to keep her contained or else she might jog his memory."

"If his memory could be jogged, then he is a liability I do not need," her majesty told her husband ominously. "Carpenter, come here."

Alice looked up at this. If the Queen thought her father could possibly remember her, his only child, then what would she do? With the Resistance still functioning, there would be the chance Carpenter could be reached again, could be turned against her. The woman would never allow such a risk to exist. She would kill Alice's father.

"Do you recognize this girl?"

Carpenter looked down at Alice, still half prone on the floor and shrugged. "She's an actress Jack brought here with some story about being my daughter."

"Do you have a daughter?" The Queen asked shrewdly. The man shook his head.

"Of course not." He chuckled over the outlandish notion. "But the Resistance wi-"

"The what?" The Queen of Hearts's murky green eyes had narrowed to vicious slits, a chill sweeping through the room at her displeasure. Carpenter stuttered and backpedaled quickly.

"The Underground," he corrected. Clearing his throat he finished his thought, "They'll try anything."

The Queen huffed with contempt, placated by his amendment. "Those rabble rousing malcontents." Of course, she wouldn't tolerate the term "Resistance" would she? That would imply that there was something to resist, that she, herself, was even capable of being resisted. "Still, why do you suppose Jack chose her of all people?"

"Because she _is_ his daughter!" Jack insisted.

"Quiet, ungrateful child!" his mother barked sharply. Jack was not intimidated, but said no more. What else was there to say?

"Darling, please, I don't think this is wise," the King pleaded. He was waved away.

"Hush, Winston." The woman turned her attention back to Carpenter. "Well?"

The scientist shook his head. "I have no idea," he said, shrugging again. "Perhaps because she's a very good actress?"

"I'm going to have her executed, you know." The monarch's eyes were fixed on her subject's face, keenly watching for any tell, any little tick that might give away a recollection of his offspring. "Does that bother you at all?"

Alice's father looked down at her again and the girl met his gaze. If he remembered her, he would be killed. It would be just like cruel fate to grant her closest wish when it would mean the death of the man she loved most in the world.

"Why should it? She's just another oyster," the man finally said without inflection. Relief surged against anguish inside the girl's soul. He would live, for which she was thankful, but he didn't even care about the terrible end she would soon meet. The mix of emotion was too much and Alice fell back to the carpet limply, weeping against her forearms.

"You may go." She didn't need to see the Queen's face to see the pleased smile that would be there on her too, too red lips; she could hear it in the woman's voice. No one spoke as the doors to the throne room opened and closed, heralding the final departure of Robert Hamilton.

With the Carpenter situation dealt with, the Queen moved on to her prisoners. "Number Ten."

"Caterpillar," he corrected her. The sound of flesh striking flesh brought Alice's attention to the room once more, though the tears still flowed. She'd looked up just in time to see the tall man stagger back under the force of his ruler's blow. He recovered and stood straight and defiant once again.

"You have betrayed me," the Queen pronounced melodramatically. "Each of your lies is a dagger in my heart."

"You have no heart," he spat at her, earning himself another fierce strike to the face. This one dropped him to one knee. This seemed the ideal position as the Queen slid her sword from its place at her side. Of course, a blade that could slice through anything would have no sheath. The woman held the edge to her captive's throat and Alice held her breath, unable to look away.

"I should cut out your tongue," the monarch declared coldly, sliding the tip of the sword along Caterpillar's neck. The touch had to be impossibly light, impossibly controlled to produce only a thin line of blood instead of slicing clean through. Ruby droplets fell from the man's throat, staining the pure white of the carpet. "In the morning, you will be drawn and quartered, slowly, for all of Wonderland to view the demise of the great Caterpillar."

She replaced the Vorpal blade and Alice could finally draw breath again. Leaving the bleeding man, the Queen turned to Jack, her only child.

"My own son," she lamented.

"Blackest of all black sheep," the King proclaimed disappointedly.

"I carried you for nine painful months," her majesty espoused, playing the part of the betrayed mother to its theatrical best. "Suffered eight hours of agonizing labor; suckled you day and night, your sharp little teeth gnawing at my breast. And now, here you are, a grown man with nothing but hatred and deceit in your heart."

Jack barely batted an eyelash. Alice couldn't imagine how this woman had spawned the man she had grown to care for. At his worst, Jack was a liar and manipulator, but nothing, _nothing_ like his evil mother.

"It's unnatural," the King shook his head in disgust.

The Queen seemed outraged by her son's lack of response. "Have you nothing to say before I pass sentence?" she demanded.

Jack's voice was soft, a sharp contrast to the volume and venom of his mother's. "Send Alice home. She doesn't deserve this."

Jack Heart's final request, his death sentence wish was for the Queen to send her home. So, he did care. It hadn't all been an act. Alice pressed a hand against the clear casing of her cell. _Oh, Jack…_

The Queen actually smiled. "Oh, dear boy, I have every intention of sending your little tart back to where she belongs." This came as quite a shock to everyone in the room, evidenced by the collective gasp that sounded from the courtier gallery. "She is no threat to me. A girl, an oyster. Why should I martyr her for the people? Make a tragic hero of her for the Underground? No, I shall send her through the Looking Glass to her world, unharmed."

The awful woman turned to Alice, that smile pure malice etched in flesh. "That she may live a long life, flush with the memories of all she has seen and done in Wonderland. So, she shall never forget her loss and failure. It's the least I can do."

She was a monster. If she put Alice to death or even killed the girl herself, it would only have spread the word that, once again, an oyster called Alice had challenged the Queen of Hearts. Instead, Alice Hamilton would go home to New York and, as the woman stated, live with the knowledge that her father lived and didn't care whether she was put to death; that she had failed an entire world and caused her friends to die. And there was nothing she would ever be able to do about it.

The Queen of Hearts made her way up the dais steps, seating herself regally on the throne. She turned cold, emotionless eyes on her son and pronounced his fate for all to hear. "It is with a heavy heart and a clear conscience that I, Mary Elizabeth Constance De Villiers Heart, Queen of Wonderland, do sentence you, Jack Frederick Heart, to be held in the Eye Room overnight, so that all of Wonderland may see you for who you really are - a failed usurper and pitiful wastrel. And tomorrow morning, you shall be taken to the Grand Hall with your comrade, to face the executioners ax."

Jack didn't look surprised, exactly, more shell shocked; as though he had expected this but never truly believed his mother would actually condemn him to death. He remained strong and defiant, however, truly looking like a prince for the first time since Alice had known him.

"No!" the girl cried. The man had hurt her, used her, but that didn't mean she wanted him dead. She pounded her fists on the clear encasement, knowing it was futile, knowing no one could hear here and even if they had, no one would care. Jack turned clear green eyes to her, his face awash with sorrow.

"_I love you."_ His lips formed the words, a silent message for her alone. She screamed her denial as the Aces led him and Caterpillar from the room.

"No! No, Jack!" It was too late. He was gone. They were all gone and she was alone again.

Alice didn't move when the cage was lifted off her, didn't fight as a group of Suits picked her up from the floor and half dragged her from the throne room. She didn't speak, didn't look up from the ground passing under her feet as she was loaded onto a Scarab and sent off towards the city.

It was all over. The world had crashed down around them all and she was the only one left standing. Cruel, capricious fate. She would go home and live her life, but what life could that be with no heart and an empty soul? Alone in the little plexiglass cell once more, Alice sat on the floor and felt no difference between the cold surface beneath her body and the empty coldness that numbed it from within. The city loomed closer in the oval window and in minute the Scarab had landed and Suits were collecting her once more.

The building which housed the Looking Glass was on the edge of the city, overlooking the lake and forest. It was the most well kept building in the entire metropolis, no extra dilapidated floors, no cracked walls or chipping paint. From the rooftop landing pad, Alice was taken down a short flight of stairs, into a hall that was somehow reminiscent of Grand Central Station - a grandly done waiting area for those traveling between realms. There was an entrance to the left of the stairs, a revolving door topped by an elaborate stained glass window and a clock whose hands spun without rhyme or reason. To the right was the Looking Glass. The girl could only assume it hadn't looked like it did now when the Ancient Knights had trapped the veil between their worlds with in it. Now, it looked like some kind of machine, two control boxes stood on either side, all switches and blinking lights.

The little nervy man who had been called Nine, but was now presumably the new Ten of Clubs had accompanied Alice on her trip. He spoke to the technician, a thin man in a white suit covered by a clear plastic lab coat. He was so pale that, were it not for his dark brown hair, the girl would have thought him an albino. Even his eyes were nearly colorless.

"This one needs to go back right away," Nine/Ten told the man. The technician barely reacted at all.

"She'll have to wait," he responded, his voice as pallid as his complexion. "A raiding party is returning with fresh oysters."

Dear God, fresh oysters. With the Stone back in her possession, the Queen was free to keep stealing people as she pleased. Not only had Alice failed Wonderland, but her own world as well. The Glass hummed to life with the sound of a vast dynamo, the mirror itself shimmering like heat waves off the pavement on a hot summer day in New York, distorting the reflection.

The surface rippled as a Suit stepped through, leading an unnaturally subdued captive. The oyster, a man in his forties, had his eyes almost completely close, his head lolling slightly as he walked down the steps from the Glass. This pair was followed by another and another, the Suits lining up their catch along one wall. After depositing their oysters, each Suit filed down a hall leading from the waiting area, the sign above printed: Debriefing. The technician walked down this line of prisoners with a small spray bottle in his hands, squirting a mist into each oyster's face. The second they inhaled the spray, their heads fell forward as though they were unconscious, but the people somehow remained standing. The last Suit through brought with him something that struck Alice like a blow to the stomach; two little girls. The younger looked to be about six or seven, the older could be no more than ten or eleven.

"Oh, no," Alice whispered. It was horrible enough when she thought the Queen was only taking adults, but children she had never even considered. It was too much, too awful. Little lives stolen and snuffed out before they even had a chance. Frantic need welled up in her and she started to shake. There had to be something she could do. Anything.

Nothing. In seconds she would be forced through the Looking Glass and, even free to do as she pleased back home, she would not be able to stop the Queen of Hearts destroying more lives than anyone would ever know.

As the girls were lined up with the rest, three Aces came down the steps from the roof. They walked to the technician. "The Queen is getting impatient," the leader, who happened to be the smallest of the three, informed the pseudo-albino. "She wants the ring."

The pale man let out a huff of impatience as pale as his skin. "We'll need it back," he insisted, moving to a small box set into the contraption beside the glass. It opened, letting out a little flood of white light, and there, inside, was the Stone of Wonderland. He plucked the ring free of its perch and handed it to the Ace. "The Looking Glass will only work a short time without it."

The Ace nodded his understanding, closing the ring up inside the little case Jack had given her a lifetime ago. Alice's spine straighten, her shaking going from that of impotent need to overload of adrenaline in half a heartbeat. The ring was in play once more and just feet away from her. As the Aces left once more, she counted ten in her mind. There was only one Suit on either side of her, complacent in her docile demeanor to this point, and only three guarding the ring. Manageable.

This was what she could do. If she could get the Stone back, she could finish what Jack had started, what Hatter had tried so selflessly to make happen. She could take the ring to the Resistance and at the very least, put an end to the Queen of Hearts's kidnapping of innocents from her world. Or she could die trying. _I'm sorry, Mom._

The technician turned back to the machinery, punching in settings as the Looking Glass hummed to life once more. Alice took her chance while she still had it. She tugged her right arm free of the Seven who held it, his grasp loose in his assurance of her submission. The quickest, most effective attack was a side hand strike to his adam's apple; the man was easily incapacitated for the moment. The other tried to make up for foolishly letting down his guard, but the girl was ready and tossed him over her hip to the hard tile floor. A quick (and highly illegal by competition rules) stomp to his groin and the man was put out of commission as well. Nine/Ten shrank away from the girl, eyes wide in terror as his mouth worked but no words came out. Before the Suits who had come through the Glass could be called to action, Alice darted up the stairs.

On the roof, the Aces charged with transport of the ring were just mounting their flamingos. Not allowing them the chance to escape, Alice rushed at the trio, taking them by surprise. The little one was her main target, but, unfortunately, one of the two others was closest as she approached. The much smaller girl dropped and skidded on the gravel roof, spinning and kicking out her leg as she slid, sweeping his legs out from under him. The big man went down hard, but recovered quickly. As he sat up, Alice drove her fist into his face, bending her arm quick as a flash and cracking her elbow against his jaw, knocking him out cold.

"Go," the second larger Ace ordered his smaller compatriot. "I'll take care of her."

"No!" she shouted as the short Suit climbed aboard his bird and zipped away. The big man came towards her menacingly and Alice scrambled back. He caught her by her hair and yanked her to her feet, a sick little grin plastered on his face.

"Where do you think you're going?" She struck her hand hard against the crook of his elbow, bending his arm and allowing her to step into him. Lifting her foot, she brought it down with all her strength against the side of his knee, the joint crunching sickeningly as it gave. The Ace released her with a scream of pain. His leg now useless, he struggled to stay upright. "You fucking bitch!"

He reached into his jacket for his gun, but she didn't give him the chance. She turned on her heel, lifting her right leg and smashing it into his chest, knocking him backwards and right over the side of the roof.

"No!" Christ, she hadn't meant to kill the guy! Scrambling to the edge, she looked over, forgetting her vertigo just long enough to see that the man was not dead. He'd landed on a ledge just below and was glaring up at her hatefully. "Oh, thank God."

He did not share her sentiment and was again reaching for his gun. She backed away from the edge quickly, taking away his target. Off in the distance, out over the lake, Alice could barely make out the Ace that had escaped, winging his way back towards he casino and the Royal airship. The other Suits would be up here any second. There was only one option. The girl rushed to the unconscious man, rummaging frantically in his pockets for the sunglasses she knew were there. Finding them, she shoved them on and raced for one of the waiting flamingos.

"Oh fuck," she hissed as she climbed on, her skin like ice, heart slamming away at her ribs from the rush of adrenaline, the fight, and mostly, the fear of what she was about to do. "Oh God. I can do this."

A gunshot sounded from the doorway and galvanized the terrified girl into action. Before she could think herself to death, Alice smacked her hand against the red button, shrieking like a banshee as the bird took off and raced away into the sky. She flew blindly for a few seconds, going in a straight line by sheer dumb luck alone. Her mouth was moving and she could feel the vibrations in her throat as she spoke, but had no idea what she was saying as it was involuntary and she couldn't hear it over the constant loud drone of the flamingo's engine.

She did hear the little scream that escaped her when, once again, a gunshot exploded behind her. One of the Suits had taken the remaining flamingo and given chase and now he was shooting at her. It was quite surreal when Alice found that she had actually reached the peak of terror. She could not be any more frightened than she was at this moment. Strangely, that was somehow calming. She took control of her bird, weaving left and right in an attempt to lose the pursuing Suit, but he had more flight experience than she did and kept up easily. It was only a matter of time before one of his shots hit home and she went down like a ton of bricks. At least when she crashed, he would stop chasing her.

A crazy idea sprouted in her mind at that thought and, with nothing left to lose, Alice wheeled off away from her path above the lake and over the woods. It was completely insane and she was completely fine with that. This was Wonderland, after all. Crazy was the name of the game. Pushing the control column forward, the girl dove towards the trees. Her reflexes were sharp, she knew, but she also knew it would only be luck again that kept her from crashing into a trunk and dying horribly in flames. The powers that be decided this was not the way she would meet her end and guided her flying jet ski between the trees unerringly, even as she sharply changed course to lose her tail.

She pulled back on the stick again, popping up above the canopy and looked around her. The Suit who had been following was heading off in the wrong direction. Her insane plan had worked perfectly. Hopefully the next one would do just as well. There was still a chance of catching the Ace with the ring, if she pushed the flamingo as hard as she could. The wind tore at her skin and clothing as she raced after her quarry, back over the lake and towards the casino.

Alice was gaining on him, she could tell. The small black speck growing larger and larger with each breath she took. She didn't know what to do once she caught him, but catch him she must. The Happy Hearts Casino loomed closer with every beat of her heart, but she couldn't make the bird fly any faster. He was close now, so close she could see his hair as it was whipped back by the wind. When the man pulled his flamingo upwards, zooming toward the airship landing bay, it was too late. She had pushed her bird too hard and there was no time to slow down before the casino was upon her.

"Fuck!" Alice screamed as she tried to brake, even hitting the red button to shut down the machine in desperation. She dropped sharply, the base of the bird slamming against the roof of the building and bouncing back up. The pink nightmare lived up to her first thoughts of it, spinning around and rolling, tossing her off completely. The girl hit hard, skidding along the concrete of the roof a hundred feet before slamming into the safety wall.

She lay there, in pain, but, miraculously, breathing. Something was broken, it must be. Her chest ached with each breath she took, but it had nothing to do with sadness. Several of her ribs must have cracked with the force of the impact. Sure there had to be injuries more serious than that, she ran her hands over her arms and face. Nothing. Her head. Something. Her palm came away like a white rose painted red. There was a good sized gash under her hair, freely flowing with blood, but she didn't feel particularly dizzy or sick. So if there was a concussion at all, it must be minor.

The dazed feeling was fading under the throbbing pain in her torso and Alice realized she couldn't stay where she was. If the Ace hadn't already alerted everyone to her presence, the crash of her flamingo surely had caught someone's attention. She leaned on the wall, using it to get to her feet. Her legs were horribly shaky, but usable. If not for the thick leather britches Charlie had given her, her skin would have been peeled from her bones by the scraping of the concrete. When she took a tentative step, her left leg gave under her and she almost went down again. So, cracked ribs, bleeding head wound, and a sprained ankle. Not bad for her first crash landing, all in all.

Limping, but moving as fast as she could, Alice made her way down from the roof and into the building. While impressive, the security of Happy Hearts Casino was by no means impenetrable. Jack and Caterpillar were being kept within the building somewhere, she was certain of that. If Hatter and Charlie had been able to break Alice out of this place, surely she had a chance at doing the same for the others. It wasn't much of a plan, that was for damned sure, but it was the only one she had. And, more importantly, it felt right and, so, according to Cheshire Cat, it was the only thing Alice could do.

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**Before you ask, yes, the next chapter will be the torture scene with Hatter. But until then, what did you guys think? I hope everything was clear, I get worried I don't explain stuff well enough. Hope you all liked it.**


	16. Hatter

**Okay, guys. Originally, I had not intended to switch to Hatter's POV at all in this story, I didn't see anything wrong with his truth room scene - or not much, anyway - so I was just going to leave it be. But, you all wanted it, so I wrote it. I like the way it turned out, really, so I'm glad you convinced me. I hope you guys like it, too.**

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Hatter was alive. For how long, he didn't know. Why, he could guess as he was dragged, all but carried from the roof, through the casino to the Truth Room, kicking and fighting all the way. His mind was buzzing like a hive of bees, each insect a thought zipping frantically around in his skull. Charlie had turned tail and fled and Hatter wasn't sure why he had thought any different of the man. Yes, he was. Because he believed in the best parts of people and when he didn't keep this foolish handicap in check, it almost always was to his own detriment. This time, it wasn't just himself who had been let down, it was Alice.

Spunky, little Alice who he'd tried and failed to protect over and over. In the Queen's clutches once more, the girl would not survive this time. The ring was gone, the Resistance possibly crippled, and all Hatter could think of was the ocean-eyed oyster who had dripped her way into his Tea Shop not seventy-two hours before. The girl had turned his entire life upside down, inside out, rightside wrong and everything in between. He wouldn't take back a second of it.

Okay, maybe one second. That one where he'd rushed into a half-assed plan at saving her and gotten himself caught. On a horse, with a sword like some kind of knight? Oh, lad, you must have been suffering tea sickness to have gone off like that. But other than that, nothing.

The Drs. Tweedle were most pleased to see him again, smiling their twisted little smiles and speaking their twisted little speech. Hatter knew what the Truth Room was, knew how it worked. He fought against the hypnotic influence, but he was only a man and, in the end, succumbed like everyone else. One more display of weakness. One more failure.

It was dark, so dark he couldn't see his hand before his eyes. He thought his hand was before his eyes anyway, but couldn't tell because it was so dark. Was that circular thinking? It seemed like a circle. Around and around, what's that sound? Someone crying. Was _he_ the one crying? No, he didn't think so. He closed his eyes to listen closer and world lit up around him, exploding into light and sound.

He was in some kind of hospital, he thought. Doctors and nurses running about frantically around a bed. The giant surgical bulbs lasted light on the scene like an attack. Everyone was shouting, screaming. No, strike that. The doctors were shouting at the nurses, the nurses were shouting at each other, everyone milling about in a tizzy. Hatter -was that his name, Hatter? - wondered what all the hullabaloo was about. A man burst through the doors that had not been there a moment ago, his face a mask of fear and horror. He wore a black suit, white Spade at his shoulder and the number six. Two others, similarly dressed came in behind him. Since the doors were still partially open, their entrance couldn't really be considered a burst so much as a bump.

The two new men took hold of the first, pulling him back towards the doors they had all just come through. Well, that was just silly, wasn't it? Coming through a door just to go right back out the same way. The first man, Six, started shouting himself, adding his voice to the frenzied orchestra already playing their panicked symphony.

Above it all, like the trill of a violin, rose a singularly great and terrible screaming. This was coming from the bed at the center of the cacophony of sound and movement. Appropriate. A woman, wracked with pain, sweating, writhing. Her skin was pale as the sheets on which she lay, eyes so wide they were almost nothing but whites. She wore a hospital gown, blue with little ducks on it that seemed so wrong it was painful, open in the torso to reveal her far too round belly. She screamed and screamed without end, like a human teapot left too long on the burner.

One of the nurses abandoned her post, trying in vain to push Six back out the way he had entered. The man fought with the strength of a lion and wouldn't be budged. The woman reached for him as she screamed. A slash appeared on the taut skin of her stomach, blood spilling out over the paper-hued flesh. If her screaming had been loud before, now it was downright unnatural. The doctors redoubled their efforts, trying to save the woman from the monster killing her from within. Another slash, more blood and Hatter suddenly recognized the man trying to reach the woman.

"Dad?"

"Marinel!" his father shouted, trying frantically to reach his wife. His wife.

If this was his father and she his mother, that meant the horrible creature clawing its way out of her was… _him_.

Something in Hatter's mind broke and he started to scream himself, watching as his infant self so brutally murdered his own mother. One of the doctors looked up, separating himself from the frenzy and approaching where Hatter stood. "You can end it," the surgeon simpered, scrubs stained with his mother's blood.

"You can save her," a nurse agreed, joining the doctor, her pale skin and beady eyes identical to the other's above the white surgical mask she wore.

"How?" How could he be talking if he was still screaming?

"Tell us what you know," the doctor said reasonably, far too calm for what was going on only feet away. Another slash and Hatter's mother's screams had become deafening.

"Anything!" he promised. Anything to make it stop.

"The Great Library," the nurse said. "Where is it?"

"It's-" he tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't open. He had no mouth _to_ open. Both the nurse and doctor looked at him in consternation. What the Hell had happened to his mouth?! His fingers searched his face, finding nothing but smooth skin where the orifice should be.

He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as his mother writhed on the bed, his father shouting and trying in vain to reach her. If they wanted to know what he knew, why would they take away his means of communication? The purpose of the Truth Room was to glean information out of people, not just torture them pointlessly!

The Truth Room. He was in the Truth Room at the Happy Hearts Casino. Hatter remembered and, in remembering, understood it hadn't been the twins who'd cut off his speech. He'd done it to himself to keep from spilling his guts. His mouth was right where it should be, bunny teeth and all, under his banefully adorable button nose.

"No," he ground out, looking away from the scene. Or looking at it, as every time he tried to cast his gaze somewhere else, there it was again. Even closing his eyes didn't work, as when he closed them, it turned out he was opening them.

"No?" the doctor demanded irritated. "Don't you want to save her?"

"Yes," he admitted, shaking as the horrible tableau went on and on.

"Then tell us what we want to know," the nurse insisted crossly. The man shook his head.

"She's already dead. I can't save her. She's already dead." He said the words over and over, not to them, but himself. His mother was gone, had been gone since the moment he first drew breath and there was nothing he would ever be able to do about it. This wasn't real, this wasn't even how it really happened. Hatter drew a deep breath and closed his eyes.

They actually closed this time and when he opened them, he found himself standing in the center of a room made of black and white swirls, shifting around him disorientatingly. The nightmare was gone, thank you Cheshire, but his ordeal was far from over. Dum and Dee glared at him angrily.

"You can't win," one declared, crossing his arms.

"This is our best game," the other agreed, hands on hips.

"Playtime's over," Hatter told them firmly. The two growled in unison and he could feel the power of the room trying to drag him down again. Again, he fought it, but it was a losing battle. There was no way to stop the Truth Room from dipping into his mind. So he let it.

Hatter locked up all the terrible thoughts, all the fears and pains, all the hopes and dreams; locked them up tight in a little box with a secret catch. That left only his empty mind which, as it turned out, was a lot like the inside of a lava lamp. He looked about himself at the shifting globs of neon green. Seemed appropriate somehow. The twins were fuming. If they had hair, he was sure they would have been tearing it out at that moment.

"Cheater!" one shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. Hatter only smirked. They certainly were sore losers.

"New game!" the other declared. A door from nowhere opened and several Suits flooded in.

"Shit."

If they couldn't break him with mental torture, they would just have to do it the old fashioned way. Neither twin seemed to mind, so long as he was in pain. Every strike, every new hurt was followed by a demand for answers. Every demand was answered first with a smart comment, then with a grunted curse, and finally with nothing at all as they beat him down and down. The Tweedles and their contingent of Suits beat him and battered him, hit him with everything they had - including, he was almost certain, a crochet mallet at one point. But he never gave in. As cowardly as he was, as weak as he was, Hatter knew this was one thing he could manage - keeping his mouth shut, no matter what it cost him.

When he could no longer stand up to their abuse, the Suits sat the man in a chair, hands bound to the arm rests, and left him to the twins' sadistic toying. There were no more questions asked, no more mercy offered in exchange for answers, only pain and laughter. He tried to distract himself, thinking of anything and everything, but the only thing that worked was Alice.

The girl was the most remarkable person he'd ever met and he'd met some pretty remarkable people. Remarked about all the time, they were. Dropped into a strange world and in mortal peril, the only thing she'd cared about was saving her boyfriend. Okay, that whole thing hadn't worked out so well, but it was her selfless determination that was so impressive. She was smart, too, his little oyster. Resourceful and, great griffins, she could fight!

And beautiful. It had made his heart stop when he'd seen her standing up on that hill, bathed in the setting sun's fiery glow. He'd thought her attractive standing drenched in his office, that flimsy dress sticking to every curve, her lovely legs bare, but it was nothing compared to her looking over the city in a knight's raiment altered to suit her shape. She was stunning and it had taken him a moment to get his wits back when she had looked down at him and he saw that she was happy to see him there. Among the choir flies, Alice had been downright ethereal, like an angel out of a storybook come to life. Actually, Hatter had once seen an angel come to life from a storybook and it looked nothing like Alice in that moment, but it _should_ have. Ye Gods, he'd almost kissed her. Almost. Damn that princely Prick of Hearts.

But thinking about Alice when he had failed her so completely, was more of a torture than the beatings and soon he was using the physical pain inflicted on his body as a shield against his mind. Hatter had taken far more of a beating than he thought he would have been able and still remain alive, much less conscious. His ribs ached from the fists and feet that had struck him there, his hair was wet with sweat and he just knew it was a right mess. More of a mess than usual. Something had trickled down from his right ear and half dried, making his skin feel tight and itchy - blood - probably from the mallet. That ear was still ringing and he vaguely wondered, if he had survived, if it would ever have stopped.

He let out a shout of pain when the twin dancing around him- he'd lost track of which was which long ago - jabbed him in the side with a cattle prod. No shame in that; pain was painful and it didn't make you weak to acknowledge it. And they'd been going at him with that fucking prod for the last ten minutes, the bastards. This latest shock had distracted him from the door opening, which it must have done, because there were suddenly four in the room instead of three. Mad March approached and Hatter started to shake again, knowing his time was just about up.

"Leave us," the assassin ordered the twins. One of them was actually foolish enough to try and protest. "I said _leave_!"

Quickly, albeit grudgingly, they did as they were told. The one with the prod gave him one last parting jab, drawing another shout of pain. If Hatter had a hand free, he'd have shoved that wand right up the freak's ass and pulled the trigger. But there were more important things at hand - his own untimely demise.

"When is a raven like a writing desk?" he panted out, not sure why he'd chosen those words above all the others he could have said to his former friend and future murderer. "The clockwork's not ticking properly."

Maybe it was because they had been so close once upon a time. Maybe it was because those words had been some of the last they'd spoken the first time one of them killed the other. March's favorite riddle, Hatter's estimation of the other man's mental state. Where Robin Peddler might have been hiding: a city pub, "Maybe Crumbs in the Butter."

"Tell me where the Great Library is," March commanded. No reaction to the words. Why would there be? The man had been robotic and empty long before he got the voice to match. Hatter looked at the other, lips tight, jaw set, silent as the grave. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd crack."

It was nice to know that someone had faith in him, after all, Hatter decided. Well, someone other than Alice. She really had believed in him, hadn't she? Putting the ring in his hat like she had, telling Jack it was where she knew it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands. That meant she thought his hands were the right hands.

"In that case, there's no need to keep you alive." Hatter had known it would come to this. March pulled a knife from his sleeve, as Hatter had known he would. It was fitting it should end like this. He'd killed Matthew once, it was only fair that the other man a turn. "Too bad the girl is gonna lose her head tomorrow. She's a dish. Not really your type, though, Hatter."

It was just like March to get as many digs in as he could before finishing off his prey. Hatter's blood flowed like ice in his veins at the thought of Alice being… getting… His stomach rolled when he thought of her breathing her last breath. But she was still breathing now, wasn't she? Locked up somewhere in the airship, waiting to be executed. No one coming to save her.

Hatter's heart kick started again, his eyes darting around the room to take new stock of the situation. They were alone, not a Suit in sight. Even the twins had gone. And the only thing holding Hatter was a bit of strapping at either wrist. The bees in his brain started buzzing again.

"Twinkle, twinkle little bat," March recited the poem he and Hatter and Dormie had come up with at some point during a night of heavy drinking, which had become a favorite between the three friends. "How I wonder what you're at. Goodbye, Hatter."

March raised the knife and Hatter readied himself. "Goodbye, Matthew." His debt to the other man would have to be settled in another life. As the assassin lunged, Hatter kicked off the ground, sending the chair tipping backwards. The back hit the ground, jarring his injuries, but he barely felt it as he kicked out again, knocking his attacker back. Sliding his wrist down the arm of the chair, he gave himself the room to maneuver out of the seat and over the backrest.

Hatter got to his feet, lifting the chair as a shield between himself and March's razor sharp blade. He turned aside the first strike with the bent metal pipe legs of the chair. When the killer slashed at him again, this time a backhand, Hatter turned, offering up his wrist to the cutting edge. Like clockwork, the knife sliced right through the binding and freed his hand, his right hand, his sledgehammer. He reared back when the weapon came at him again, then snapped forward, putting all his momentum into the blow.

His fist connected with the rabbit head and the ceramic caved under his knuckles as easily as spun glass. March went down, twitching, the mechanism contained in the false head crackling and spitting sparks. Hatter lifted his boot and stomped on it, bringing an end to Mad March for the second time. He picked up the knife and cut through the strap that still held him to the chair and was free. Relatively free. He was still in the Truth Room, in the casino.

How the Hell was he supposed to get out? The moment he thought it, a door appeared. Good old Truth Room. Hatter started for the exit, but stopped just before grabbing the handle. He must look a sight, bloody and bruised. He'd be spotted right off as out of place if he ran out into the corridor looking like this. He looked around and on the ground a few feet away were his hat and coat. Wincing against the pain it cause, he pulled on the jacket. He ran fingers through his hair, trying to tame it just a little but before settling his hat on his head.

Yes, he was still bruised and bloodied, but at least he looked a bit put together. Right. Hatter opened the door and peeked into the hall. Empty. Lucky. He walked quickly, but carefully, retracing his steps the way he'd been dragged. His goal was the lift that would take him to the Royal airship, where he was dead certain Alice would be kept until tomorrow. This was crazier than trying to break her out of the casino in the first place had been, but that didn't stop him. His Alice needed him and come Hell or high water he would get to her. The ring, the Resistance, Hell, the whole rest of Wonderland could keep for the time being; it would still be there to worry about when Alice was safe and sound. Until then, nothing else mattered.

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**If you don't like the reasoning behind Hatter's rambling to March, I'm sorry. I tried my best to have it make sense. Hope this chapter lived up to your expectations.**


	17. Reunited

**Okay, as nice as it was in Hatter's head, back to Alice, limping her way through the casino.**

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Alice stumbled her way down the stairs from the roof, bursting out of the door at the bottom and nearly falling on her face. A quick glance around showed her the lift up to the Royal airship and the familiar bank of elevators. Good, at least she knew where she was. Better, it gave her an idea of where to go. Caterpillar would have all the valuable information the Queen would need to snuff out the Resistance once and for all. The logical place for him was the Truth Room. She headed off that way.

The halls of the casino were strangely deserted, no diamond workers milled about for her to hide from. It was convenient, but disconcerting. Where was everyone? Even Shaquella wasn't at her desk when the girl reached it. A sparkle just at the corner of her vision caught Alice's attention. By a row of picture windows, the receptionist stood staring out at the grounds. The woman suddenly turned and spotted her. The girl tensed, ready for fight or flight, but Shaquella looked absolutely horrified.

"What's happening?" she asked, her voice small and frightened. Alice blinked, shaking her head. The dark-skinned diamond looked back out the window. Whatever was out there was terrifying her and if it was bringing that reaction out of one of the casino's own workers, it was something worth having a peek at, so far as the oyster was concerned. She limped over to the window and peered out.

"Holy…" she breathed. Hundreds of suits of armor glinted in the sunlight. Infantry, rows upon rows of them. Every sword, every ax, every piece of armor that had been contained within the cathedral in the Kingdom of the Knights was now on the sloping hills surrounding the Happy Hearts Casino. This would have been an awesome enough sight in and of itself, but what made Alice's eyes grow wide, what made Shaquella shake in her bright red go-go boots, were the soldiers themselves. The great Knights of the realm had shaken off their burial shrouds for fiercer garb, bony fingers now clasped around the hilts of their longswords in abandonment of wilted funeral flowers. And there, on his noble steed, shining brightly even in his much patched armor, was the White Knight himself.

"Way to go, Charlie," Alice whispered. Shaquella grabbed her arm.

"What do I do?" The girl pulled the acrylic-clawed hand from her limb and leveled a serious gaze on its owner.

"Run," she told the frightened woman. "Get the Hell out of here before it's too late."

She didn't have to be told twice. The receptionist raced off down the corridor, her red heels clacking loudly on the tile floor. Alice didn't stay to watch her leave. She kissed her hand and pressed it to the glass, silently wishing Charlie good luck, then made her way towards the casino room. Through there and down the hall, to the left was the Truth Room and, hopefully, Caterpillar. He would know where Jack was being kept and how to get him out. He must.

Her progress wasn't fast enough in her opinion, the damned ankle and her ribs slowing her down dramatically. It wasn't so bad when she was just trying to get to where she was going and keep out of sight.

"Hey! You!" However, that was only so long as she wasn't spotted.

"Shit!"

"Stop!" Alice pushed herself as hard as she could, fancying she could _feel_ the edges of her cracked ribs grinding against each other with each painful stride. The group of Suits that had caught sight of her would catch up in seconds, but the doors of the casino room were so close. If she could just reach them. The fates were on her side. The girl only made a small sound of agony as she wrenched the heavy door open, leaning heavily on it to make the thing close faster. Now, what? There was no way to lock it. No where in the room to hide. She had to think fast.

There! Beside the entrance stood a set of velvet ropes. She quickly unscrewed the metal pole and slapped it against the door, sliding it down to bar the twin vertical handles on the double doors. No idea how long it would hold though. She spun back to the room, starting for the opposite door. The fastest way that she could see, since the area was crowded with catatonic oysters, was across the stage. She ran up the stairs behind the diamond backdrop and shoved her way between the dancers, intent on hopping off the far end. Maybe not hopping, given the state of her, but maybe sitting and scooting off the side.

"Hey!"

"Shit!" Turns out the fates might not have been on her side after all. Two Aces stood in the middle of the room, a security detail that had not been there before. They raised their guns, pointed directly at Alice. She screeched to a halt. Damn it all to Hell!

"Get down from there," one of the men ordered, motioning her off the stage with his weapon. The showgirls scattered like roaches, leaving her alone on the platform. Her mind raced as she tried to calculate the odds of knocking the gun out of his hands. Pretty good. Getting the second Ace disarmed before he shot her? Not so good. Really bad actually. She stepped to the edge of the stage and, taking a fortifying breath, hopped down off it. When her feet hit the tile floor, pain shot up her leg, her ribs jarred horribly and she crumpled to the ground with a little cry of pain. The Aces were unsympathetic.

"Get up," the same one who had told her to get off the stage now demanded. Mentally crossing her fingers, Alice didn't move. His impatience came through for her and the Suit huffed in annoyance, stalking forward to grab her by the arm. Ignoring the pain - and Jesus, was there pain - the girl thrust her flattened palm upward, right into the underside of his chin. The man's teeth clacked together loud enough to be heard over the crap lounge music still playing in the room. She followed the hit through, surging to her feet.

A small sound slipped passed her notice, but some small part of her mind could have sworn it was a whistle. One of the diamonds impressed by her attack? Didn't matter, her strike wasn't hard enough to knock the man out. He reeled back, but recovered, lifting his gun once more. Before it could be leveled on her for the second time, a fist came out of nowhere and crushed the Ace's orbital bone like an aluminum can.

Alice instantly forgave the fates for every wrong they had every dealt her as she followed the arm attached to the fist and came to a pair of deep chocolate eyes under wild black hair poorly contained by a ridiculous straw hat.

"Hatter!" The name passing her lips was part squeak, part gasp, and wholly awestruck. "You're okay."

"Yeah," he acknowledged, not even looking at her. The man who should have been dead at that moment bent to retrieve the fallen Suits' pistols. "Okay" was both an understatement and an overestimation of his current state. He was alive, breathing, standing there barely two feet away. He also had a massive black eye, a scabbed over scratch along his right temple, a couple bad abrasions on his forehead and lines of partially dried blood tricking from his nose and right ear.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed softly taking in the injuries. Her hands came up of their own accord, hovering just above his skin. The urge to touch, to heal was undeniable, but she didn't actually know what the Hell she could do about the damage, so her fingers traced the air over his wounds impotently.

Hatter pushed her hands away, insisting, "It's just a few cuts and bruises; I'm fine." Fine? _Hell no_, but, dear saints, he was _alive_. "I'm-"

Alice pulled her hands away and threw her arms around his neck, cutting off his words, unable to stop herself. As though that were an option. Tears filled her eyes and she didn't care how badly it hurt when his arms came around her in return, squeezing her tightly against his body.

"I thought you were dead," she told him in a hoarse whisper. But he wasn't. She could feel his heart beating, fast and strong against her breast as she pressed against him. In that instant, Queen, Resistance, Looking Glass be damned, all was right with the world.

Hatter let out a little huff of air, his arms tightening just a bit more. "Oh, that feels good." It really did, despite the horrible pain his wonderful embrace was causing. Eyes closed, she pressed her face to his throat, inhaling the warm, spicy scent under the blood and sweat and leather. His hands gripped her hips then, firmly pulling her back from himself.

"We should save that until we're safe," he nodded, clearing his throat. Shit, right. They were still in mortal peril weren't they? Good thing he was thinking clearly, because all Alice wanted to do was be back in his arms and let the world fall apart around them. Of course, it wouldn't be _around _them; it would be on top of them. She nodded in return.

"I shouldn't have left with Jack," she told him. It was equal parts apology and admonishment. He had told her to go, so it was his fault, but she had listened, which made it her own fault.

"Do you trust me?" he asked her, his eyes locked on hers, filled with the need for her to say "yes."

She did him one better. "Always."

Something flickered across the man's gaze, like he wanted to do something very much, but it was chased away by the familiar steely determination she had come to expect - depend on - from him. He pressed one of the pistols into her hand. "Follow me. I'm getting us out of here."

He started back the way she had come. Alice followed for a step before remembering. "No."

Hatter stopped and turned towards her. "No?" It was eerily reminiscent of their argument on the beach, but this time Alice was fully aware of the facts.

"I came in that way. There were Suits after me and I blocked the door. We can't go that way," she explained quickly. Undeterred, he immediately switched his game plan, heading for the other set of double doors. Again, Alice started to follow and stopped. Something wasn't right, she could feel it. "Wait!"

He wheeled around again. "Yes?" Eyes flashing a soft accusation: _what happened to the trust?_

"Something… Cheshire Cat told me to do what I think is right," she told him.

"And what is that?"

"Find something to block the door," Alice said, turning away from him and looking around the room. Why shouldn't they leave? There was nothing here that could help them, just oysters. Oysters. There were maybe fifty people in this room, all waiting like cows to the slaughter. Hatter moved off to do as she asked while the girl's mind spun. How could she help them? They were prisoners of their own minds, trapped inside their own sensations, emotions. How could she break them free?

Break them down. "Something… something Turtle said."

"What?" her friend asked, wedging a push broom across the door handles.

"Mix the wrong emotions and you get a complete breakdown," she told him what the obnoxious little stoner had said.

"So?"

Alice looked at him, her own determination rising to rival his own. "I've got an idea. Follow my lead." For once. He nodded, ready and waiting. Okay. She ran back to the stage and climbed up on it, looking out over the crowd. What's the easiest way to get the attention of a captive audience? She pointed her gun up towards the ceiling and pulled the trigger. The thing kicked back and she almost dropped it. Two more gunshots rang out as Hatter took up her mantle.

"Oi!" he shouted from his new vantage point inside one of the go-go cages, aiming his weapon at the few remaining diamonds in the room. Alice did the same. The music and gaming sounds stopped, leaving the room in dead silence.

"Deal another card, spin another roulette wheel and it will be your last!" she bluffed the warning. She was sure the games had something to do with the oysters' trance and didn't want it to interfere with what she was doing. Unfortunately, while the diamonds scattered about cowered from their new captors, the people from her own world didn't react at all. "Hey!" she called, as though that would work better than the gunshots. "Wake up!"

Nothing. Not even a blink. There was nothing else to do, she had to keep trying. "Come on! Look at me! I know you can hear me! This isn't a dream, you have to snap out of it!"

"Alice, what-"

She kept going, ignoring the question she knew Hatter would ask, because she had no answer. If she could stir the people up, cross their wires enough to short out the hold Carpenter's mechanisms had over them, they might wake up. "Think about it; where are your families? How long have you been here?" Her eyes cast frantically about the room. Had she been stupid to try this? Was she just going to get herself and Hatter killed? Please, no. Please - There! A tall black man in a police uniform blinked, turning his head slowly one way, then the other.

"Where did I leave my keys?" Not quite what the girl had been going for, but a start.

"Come on!" she tried again. "Think about where you are! Your name. Do you remember your name?"

"Taylor." An older gentleman frowned in confusion. "No, that's my son." His eyes cleared, the fog lifting. "My son…"

Others around the room were waking up, more and more, looking about themselves in bewilderment. They were scared, they were confused, but they were alert. This room was for anticipation and excitement, not the emotions she was bringing out of the oysters now. It could be enough to break them free completely.

"Try to move," she urged them. "Try to step back from the tables."

They tried, but it wasn't working. "I'm stuck!" one woman hollered. "I can't move my feet!"

Shit, it wasn't good enough. She needed to do more, but she was out of time. Someone slammed against the double doors from the outside. With only a wooden broom head to hold them closed, there were only a few seconds left before more Suits would flood into the room.

"They're trying to break in," she told her fellow oysters, growing frantic. "They don't want you to wake up, to get out. Come on! We have to-"

Too late. The doors burst open, the broken broom clattering to the side. A dozen Aces streamed into the room, immediately opening fire on Alice and Hatter. She dropped to the stage and crawled over the side, dropping to the floor behind one of the craps tables.

"Hatter!"

"Alice!" She tried to creep along the ground to get to his voice, but there wasn't enough cover. They were done for. Two guns between them and she didn't know how to shoot, the Suits had at least twelve and probably extra clips of ammo. It would all be over in a few minutes She just wanted to get to him before the end. "Stay down!"

How did he do that?

"Stop!" a familiar voice shouted, bringing the gunfire to a halt. Her ears were ringing in the sudden quiet. "You're scaring the oysters. I'll deal with this."

Her father. Alice peeked over the edge of the table, seeing the man approaching her hiding place. She aimed her gun up at him, hands shaking. "Stop!"

He did, thank God. She didn't think she was capable of shooting him, but was terrified she was wrong. "Put the gun down," he ordered, his voice far softer than when he'd addressed the Suits a moment ago.

"No," she shook her head, backing away from him until her spine hit the side of the stage.

"It's me, Alice," Carpenter said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "It's you're father."

The girl shook her head again, denying the lie. "You don't remember me," she insisted. "You're lying." It was all a trick so he could get her gun and give her over to the Suits.

"I'm not," he insisted, touching the watch she'd given him. The watch he was still wearing. "Thanks to you, I remember everything."

"I don't believe you!" she shouted, levering herself up into a standing position, gun still trained on her father's heart. "You didn't care whether I lived or died!"

"Alice-"

She cut him off. "Just like all of you," the girl told the oysters, who were cowering on the floor around the tables. "He's the one who brought you here and when he's done taking and _taking_, he'll get rid of you!"

Her vision was blurred with tears, heart aching all over again. It was fair for him to keep hurting her. She lashed out, like the child she was so long ago, at the father who broke her heart. "Isn't that right?" Alice demanded of the man before her. "Daddy, isn't that right?!"

"Please, listen to me," Carpenter implored, taking a step towards the shaking girl. She jerked her gun at him threateningly, but it was an empty warning. "You… you were seven," he began haltingly. "And Carol was at the store, so it was just the two of us. I was in the kitchen, making you lunch. … Peanut butter and honey, your favorite. And a bowl of Lucky Charms."

He chuckled softly, eyes taking on a far off cast. "Because I was never very good at balancing meals and you said please, and looked at me with those big, beautiful eyes and I couldn't tell you no. I thought you were watching television, but you'd snuck off into my study to look at the ships in bottles."

Alice's heart lurched in her chest. Her father's favorite hobby, the reason he'd gotten into the business in the first place and opened his shop, was building miniature ships in bottles. And, since it was her father's favorite thing, young Alice had found it endlessly fascinating. She knew the day he was talking about, remembered like a lifetime had not passed between then and now. Seven year old Alice Hamilton had wanted to get a closer look at one of the bottles, high on the shelves behind her father's desk. So, as any child would, she climbed the shelving to reach it. And the whole thing came crashing down on her.

"The crash scared me half to death and I dropped the milk and ran. I saw the mess, glass everywhere. I was so afraid you'd been hurt," he went on. Carpenter… Hamilton smiled, eyes glittering to match her own. "But, there you were, sitting on the floor in the middle of the room and not a scratch on you, crying and crying because you'd broken all my ships. Every last one."

She sniffled and nodded, the gun shaking so hard it rattled now. "And you… you picked…"

"I picked you up and hugged you and wiped away your tears and said it would all be okay. And we'd rebuild them all together."

And they had. Maybe some of the masts were crooked, maybe some of the paint was smeared and the sails lopsided, but every ship had been recreated. They'd done it together.

"And I told your mother-" he chuckled, smile growing wider. "I told her it must have been an earthquake that brought the shelves down."

The girl let out a sound that was both a sob and a laugh, remembering the preposterous lie her father had told.

"I should have known you the moment I saw you," Hamilton lamented, his eyes going from fond memories to sorrowful regrets. "Please, forgive me."

Another sob spilled from her lips, the gun lowering under the weight of her emotion. He was her father, really her father. He remembered her, he knew her, he loved her. All the years of pain and loneliness and abandonment faded away as he stepped towards her and finally, finally, pulled her into a warm, loving, fatherly embrace.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. Alice wrapped her arms around him in turn, unable to answer as her heart was slowly becoming one piece again after so long. "I love you, Jellybean."

"I love you, Dadd-" _BANG!_ Her father jerked against her, his weight suddenly dragging against her hold. Her eyes flew open and he was staring at her in bewilderment. What happened? He slipped from her grasp, slumping to his knees before her. Alice was eye to eye with a huge bald man sporting a scrub brush mustache, wearing a wool turtleneck under a grey, vinyl jumpsuit and galoshes. He was holding his sizable stomach, blood running from a wound there. She vaguely remembered him from the last time she was in the throne room, the man had been with Carpenter. Now, he was pointing a gun straight at her after having shot her father. She hadn't expected death to look so much like a Maine fisherman.

_BANG!_ Alice jerked at the gunshot, expecting the bullet to slam into her chest and tear her heart asunder one final time. Instead, three more shots rang out and with each one, the walrus-like man jolted backwards before finally falling to the tiles. Her right ear was ringing, which was the only thing that prompted Alice to look in that direction. Hatter was standing close by her, arms extended, gun in his hands. He'd killed that man. Killed him, when he'd all but sworn to her that he would never kill anyone again. He'd killed him… to save her.

Her father grabbed her leather pants, bringing her attention back. She dropped to her knees, the pain inconsequential. He fell back onto the tiles, blood pouring out from the wound in his back.

"No! Daddy!" she cried, hands fluttering uselessly from his face to his shoulders, chest and back to his face. The world tilted and shook, coming apart at the seems as she watched her father's life spilling onto the white tile beneath him. It took one of the slot machines falling over for Alice to understand that the building really was quaking and it wasn't just her world falling apart all over again.

"It's okay, Jellybean," Hamilton insisted, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. "I messed things up, but you'll be okay."

"No, it's fine. You're gonna be fine," the girl insisted.

"You have to get out of here. You have to leave me."

"Don't say that!" she shouted at him, grabbing his yellow vinyl coat and shaking him, despite the bleeding gunshot wound. "Don't you say that to me!"

"Alice…" It was the only thing that could have made her look up from her father at that moment - not the shaking walls and falling ceiling panels, the screaming oysters finally freed from their invisible restraints running out the doors - Hatter's voice. He was at her side, looking down at her, pleading silently and then not so silently. "We have to go."

"No," she shook her head. Looking between the two men. "You hear me? I didn't wait fourteen years and travel into another fucking dimension to find you and then lose you now! You're not _allowed_ to die on me, you son of a bitch. Do you understand? You _owe_ me!"

She pulled away form her father's touch, grabbing his arm and yanking him into a sitting position. Hatter followed her lead and took Hamilton's other arm, pulling it around his neck as she did the same. Together, they lifted her father and the three hurried from the room as fast as they could manage, just as the florescent lights started to crash down from above.

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**Yeah. It really, REALLY bothered me when her father died like that. I remember you, yay! BANG! Oh, oops. I'm dead now. Seriously, wtf SciFi?**


	18. Vindication of the White Knight

**I know this isn't what you all were expecting for the next chapter, but I just had to do it. It's short, but I hope you all like it.**

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For once in his life, battle loomed on the horizon and Charles Eustace Fotheringale le Malvois III was unafraid. Well, perhaps "unafraid" was too strong a word. He was scared to death, but still stalwart in the face of danger and possibly his imminent demise. Justalice, who most certainly _was_ the Alice of Legend despite her many protestations to the contrary, was being held within the enemy fortress and he, as a knight sworn to protect the fair lady, must come to her rescue. It was his duty and his honor. The White Knight's armor had never felt so much a part of him as it did at this moment, riding proudly atop his mighty steed onto the field of battle. How many years had he waited for this day? Quite a few, actually.

To be perfectly honest (as a knight must be), he had not been all too certain things would work out so well as they had. His plan was sound, make no mistake, but Charlie had not been sure he possessed all which was required to see it through. Honor, valor, courage, and purity - chief and indispensable virtues of a true knight. Until this morning, the old man had not quite believed he had been endowed with such noble descriptors. It was rather a pleasant surprise to find that he had.

His vast army awaited his command; row upon row of gallant sirs and ladies, knights of the realm. The armor and weaponry he had been so painstakingly maintaining all these long years shone brightly in the noontime light. Each blade was at the ready, each ax held within a tight, albeit bony grip. He trotted Percival up and down the front line, gazing out over his troops, all anticipating his orders, ready to lay down their … uh, lives? Under his lead.

"Good knights of the realm!" he called to them, unsheathing his sword. "Long has this war waged in silence and fear, long have you waited for your rightful justice, long has a tyrant held the throne of Wonderland in a grip of cruelty and oppression; but no more! Today, we face our enemy once again on the field of battle, to return peace and freedom to the good people of our beloved realm! Your death masks and skeletal grins are fitting, for you honorable warriors shall strike a fatal blow to the evil which reigns unjustly over the wonderous kingdom of Avalon!

"Noble knights of the Red King, we go to save the Alice of Legend! For freedom! For justice! _For Wonderland!_" The knight raised his sword high and was met by the eager roar of his army. Wheeling his stallion around, Charlie led the charge towards the Happy Hearts Casino, a thousand and more soldiers at his heels.

The fallen paladins of the Kingdom had risen to his call, come to his aid, followed his command. This they would only do when summoned by a _true_ knight. The day he had so long yearned for had finally arrived with the small spitfire Justalice. Charlie would reclaim his honor at last. He just hoped he would live long enough to enjoy it.

The wicked Queen's Suits were ready and waiting for his army, but foolishly they had long since forsaken the blade and ax, weapons of old, for mere pistols. Bullets, they would find in a moment, did very little against those without flesh to pierce and internal organs to rupture. His undead troops fell upon them like wild dogs, blood spilling on the grass as it had not for two hundred years. The sword of the righteous hewed both life and limb from the partisans of evil.

The ill trained and cowardly Suits quickly retreated back into their stronghold and a shout of triumph went up amongst the White Knight's warriors. Charlie ordered them onward, to infiltrate the castle - er, casino - and retrieve Justalice, her Harbinger, and all those captives held within. Himself, the old paladin pulled Percival back, galloping up the hill to the line of ballistas waiting to repel the imminent air strike.

Not a moment too soon, as the fuchsia birds of the Empyrean swarmed from the casino roof, more pouring out of the Royal airship. Like bees from a hive, they attacked, swooping low and dropping explosives on the army. Where the hand to hand combat had been extremely skewed in favor of the sword and ax wielding paladins, the ground to air assault was sorely lacking. Grenandes tended to beat out spears and rock slings every time. But Charlie and his troops did not flag, holding their ground and launching volley after volley at the bombarding flamingos.

Percival reared and shrieked in terror as the ground exploded around them. The White Knight quickly dismounted and sent the horse on his way with a firm slap to the flank. He was a good, strong steed, but not at all suited to such violence. The White Knight manned a ballista himself, taking careful aim at his advancing enemy and fired. The Suit banked to the side just in time to avoid being skewered like a borogove roast.

"Grizzly, cat-handed onions!" he shouted at the enemies swooping overhead. Beside him, a knight twirled his sling above his head, waiting for the right moment to throw the stone within. The moment came, but when he went to fire, instead of letting loose his weapon, the spindly paladin's arm was pulled free of the socket and fell to the grass behind him. Charlie huffed, retrieving and reattaching the limb. "We can't fall apart in the face of the enemy!"

The skeletal combatant nodded, shrugging apologetically. His commander returned to the ballista, loading it for another volley. Some of the other spear launchers and sling carriers had better luck, sending the aerial Suits spiraling out of control and crashing into the ground. Two slammed into the casino itself, blasting out windows and showering glass on the battle below.

Inside, Sir Charles was certain his soldiers were bringing down the Queen's pathetic excuse for an army with ease. In her sureness and pride, she had allowed herself to become complacent. Once a brilliant military leader, the woman had let her guard slip, her forces to become lazy and overly dependent on modern weaponry and fear tactics. How could one defend against an opposing army who was unaffected by either? One couldn't; which is why Charlie knew the great Knights of the Red King would win the day. The Queen of Hearts had committed the cardinal sin of Wonderland - she had taken something, her superiority, for granted. Thus, she was doomed.

The White Knight took aim once again, waited for just the right instant, and fired. Direct hit! His launched lance speared a Suit right off his flamingo. The man fell to the ground, but his bird, unmanned, wheeled away. The machine crashed against another, causing the Ace at the stick to loose his control. The pink speeder swerved sickly to the left and right, gaining altitude so sharply the pilot passed out. As Charlie watched, the flamingo winged its way back towards the building at top speed. Its trajectory was so steep, it missed the building completely and smashed, full force, into the Royal airship itself.

A large chunk of the ship exploded outward, snapping several of the suspension cables nearby. The balance of the ship was completely throne off, one side dipping too low, snapping three more of the wires which held it to the balloon. With an unearthly groan, the massive dirigible swung away from the casino, but the anchor lines that ran the lift were still attached. The very air around them shook as the narrow foundation of the Happy Hearts Casino cracked under the strain. When the ship crashed, it would bring the whole building down.

People had been streaming out of the edifice steadily since the fighting had begun, but within seconds, they were pouring out in torrents. Confident in his troops abilities, the aged paladin was not worried about Justalice. She was likely out of the building already and would be safely away before it all collapsed. A soldier at the ballista to his left took almost the full blast of a grenade, knocking him back from his post and his skull from his shoulders.

Charlie rushed to his aid, grabbing up the errant cranium. As he plunked it back in place on the knight's spinal column, he admonished. "Keep your head, man! Keep your head!"

As he was assisting his comrade, he did not see the flamingo diving towards him until it was too late. The world exploded around them, tossing him to the ground. As the world faded into black, the final battle of Sir Charles, the White Knight was over. The war, however, was yet to be won.

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**I thought the "army" in the mini, while kind of clever, was a bit lackluster. Not to mention kind of impossible to pull off in the time Charlie had to do it. I thought this would be a bit more impressive and befitting of such a great knight.**


	19. The Queen of Hearts

**Well, I did Hatter and Charlie, so it only seemed fitting to give the Queen her own chapter. The three most important characters in the story aside from Alice. Besides, some of you were wondering how the whole thing with the airship would go down.**

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The Queen of Hearts gazed out the window from her private quarters, watching the battle below. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright as she took in the violence and bloodshed. Oh, it had been too long! Decades and decades in unchallenged control of the realm, no one to oppose her. It had been over a century since she'd last seen a good massacre. The woman had let the Resistance, those pathetic ragamuffins, flourish in their underground, waiting for them to finally rise up and attack. Instead, they plotted and conspired, turning her own flesh against her, seeking victory through subversion and not the glory of battle. She should have snuffed them out long ago and let something more fierce spring up from the ashes.

The one thing she had never dreamed was for the fallen Knights to rise again. It was too delicious to be true. A second chance to crush the Red King's army. Her victory would be even more satisfying than before. With the little tart back in her own world, suffering in guilt and grief for the rest of her days - which was her just deserts, after all - her traitorous son and advisor soon to be dealt with, and the Looking Glass back up and running, her domination of Wonderland would be complete once more.

The new Ten of clubs, who was not nearly so tall as the last and quite a bit more jittery than his predecessor, had urged the Queen to order the airship away from the casino, from the danger of being so close to the battle. She had laughed right in his whimpering little face. Away? Why should she, the magnificent ruler of Wonderland, flee from danger? A knock sounded at the door to her chamber. Speak of the devil; the simpering toad scurried into the room.

"Majesty, the girl has escaped." His voice was a pathetic little squeak, grating on her regal nerves.

"What?" she demanded sharply, turning from the window.

"She's in the casino, we think trying to free the Prince and-"

"Unacceptable!" the Queen barked, cutting off his words like a whip. "How incompetent are you Suits that you cannot even maintain control over one simple oyster girl?!"

The man stuttered and cast his eyes about the room, looking for help. His gaze fell on the King beseechingly, but, of course, he received no aid. She strode towards the little man, eyes sharp as diamonds.

"Have you no answer?" the monarch demanded, her voice chill. The worm could barely draw breath, let alone form a coherent sentence. Useless, worthless. In one fluid movement, the Queen drew her sword, the beloved Vorpal Blade, and sliced through the man's neck. The spine offered no resistance to the glorious weapon as it cleaved his head from his body. She smiled as the feeble sycophant's mouth continued to work soundlessly as his head tilted back and tumbled to the floor. His blood sprayed in a gorgeous crimson fountain, staining the snow white carpet and wall curtains beautifully. The monarch took a moment to appreciate the display as the man's body fell to join his missing skull.

It was like fine wine, like the most sinful of chocolates and a little thrill of pleasure rushed through her. Being the ruler of Wonderland afforded her all the power in the world, but this, the taking of someone's life, was by far the greatest of all dominations. Life and death rested in her own hands; she was the reaper.

Off to the side, in his easy chair, Winston sighed, much aggrieved, ruining her enjoyment, as usual. "Dearest, we just promoted the man and now he's dead. That's bad business."

"If he could do his job properly, I wouldn't have to take matters into my own hands," she replied haughtily, wiping the blade clean on the fallen Clubs's robe. "I've many responsibilities. I cannot be expected to do everyone's work in addition to my own, now can I?"

She returned to the window just in time to see the out of control flamingo winging its way towards her airship. A moment after it disappeared from view there was a huge, thunderous boom and the floor shook and dipped beneath her feet, nearly sending the proud monarch to her knees.

"Good heavens!" she gasped. The ship shuddered, jerking unsteadily. Apparently, the wild bird had caused quite a bit of damage. How exciting! The Royal airship crashing into the casino would be quite a marvelous sight indeed, should it come to that. The Queen spun from the window and headed for the door. "Come, Winston. It's time to evacuate."

"You go ahead," he said unconcernedly, not rising from his chair. This brought his wife to a halt, inches from the red stain still growing on the carpet.

"What?"

"I'm not coming." The Queen looked at the man as though he were mad. Perhaps he was. Her husband had never been the brightest bloom in the bouquet, but this was quite preposterous.

"Don't be ridiculous," she admonished. Pointing out, "You'll die if you stay here."

He still did not rise. In fact he was actually obtuse enough to pull the ottoman closer and put his feet up.

"I'm tired, Elizabeth," he sighed wearily. "I'm tired of watching you tear the world apart, bit by bit. I'm tired of waiting for you to get tired of me. I did all this-" he motioned towards himself in his fine suit "- for you. There never was anyone else."

Well of course there was no one else. She never would have tolerated that, even if he had been so despicable. Besides, Winston adored her, worshipped the ground she walked on, as he should. She was the Queen of Hearts, after all.

"I would have conquered the world for one smile," he proclaimed, uncharacteristically lyrical. Oh, so he was in one of _those_ moods. She sighed and tried to remain patient.

"Don't wax poetic to me, Winston. Not now."

"Have I ever said 'no' to you?" the King asked, almost challengingly.

"Of course, not." No one said no to Mary Elizabeth, ruler of Wonderland. "Now, come along."

Winston's gaze did not waiver, he did not blink. "No."

"You… you're just going to sit here and let yourself die?" she asked, completely taken aback. "Because of me?"

"I love you, Elizabeth. I always have." He wove his fingers together and settled down into the chair as though preparing for a cat nap. "But I won't go on with you like this. Good-bye."

Something inside her was moved by his words. Her husband, the one person she had never raised hand nor word to, ready to perish because of her own actions. She strode towards him as the ship moaned and shook around them. For all he had given her in their long years of marriage, stood by her and supported her every enterprise, she would allow him this.

"Good-bye, Winston," the Queen said softly, bending to place a final kiss to his forehead. He grunted softly as the Blade pierced his ribcage, skewering his heart and splitting the organ asunder. Her face was impassive as she drew back, not looking on him again as she left the room. She could not leave him to die so painfully in the crash. It had been a mercy, really. He was her husband, after all, and she loved him. So much as the Queen of Hearts could love anyone or anything. Which is to say, not at all. Did he really think she would allow him to leave her? Foolish man.

Mary Elizabeth made her way towards her escape craft, which would be waiting to whisk the monarch to safety. But she would not be taken to her palace to the east. Oh no, she would have the pilot land right here. If the little bitch called Alice had managed to escape her guards and elude her Suits time and again, the irritating oyster would no doubt slip out of the casino before it collapsed.

The Queen would take care of the slattern herself, martyrdom be damned. She had created the Legend of Alice and now, she would bring it to a final, bloody end.

* * *

**Next chapter, we're back to Alice and the confrontation with the Queen of Hearts. Oh boy!**


	20. The Legend

**Back to Alice as we escape the casino. I kind of... hated Alice's speech at the end. The whole thing struck me as a bit dumb and WAY to easy. So, I changed it. Hope you like it.**

* * *

Alice, Hatter, and her father struggled to move quickly out of the building. There appeared to be some blockage in their path, however, as all the oysters and diamonds who had escaped the casino room were crowded together in the hallway ahead. Several of them were shouting or screaming in panic.

"What's wrong?" she asked, raising her voice to a yell to be heard over the din. The rather handicapped trio pushed their way to the front of the crowd and stopped short. "Holy!"

A line of skeletal knights stood between the escapees and the staircase leading down to the main lobby. Upon seeing Alice, several of them stepped forward. The terrified oysters at her back scrambled backward, their shouts of fear redoubling.

"Stop!" the girl commanded. She had been talking to the people freaking out behind her, but the paladin's halted in their tracks. Okay, that was interesting. They didn't have time to just wait here having a Mexican standoff. She asked quickly, "You're fighting for the White Knight?"

The foremost soldier nodded. Of course, being skeletons, they wouldn't be able to speak, would they? Awesome. So yes or no questions only.

"Are you here to help?" Again he/she nodded, then lifted a hand to point one bony finger right at her. _That's just fucking disturbing._ "We need to get out of here. Now."

The knight nodded, stepping forward again to take the burden of her father from herself and Hatter. "Be careful with him," she insisted, turning back to the horrified crowd. "Everyone stop yelling! Listen, these knights are on our side! They're going to get us out of the casino! Let's go!"

She motioned them forward, but no one moved. Fuck! She looked to Hatter who had no answers. "We don't have time to freak out right now, okay? Freak out once we're outside! Now, _move,_ dammit!" A few of the people started forward, edging their way passed the knights. Then more, and finally everyone was running. One of the paladins scooped up the little seven year old girl Alice had seen come through the Looking Glass, another grabbing up her sister. Good. The kids were safe.

The lead soldier, wearing armor that shone gold in the florescent lighting of the casino, stepped forward, taking Alice's hand, obviously intent on taking some of the weight off her sprained ankle. Hatter stepped in, pulling her away and slinging her arm around his shoulders.

"My job, mate," he insisted. The knight didn't protest, just turned and led the way out of the quaking structure. Though she knew he must be beat up something terrible, his face all the proof she needed that there were other injuries she couldn't see, Hatter felt strong as ever as he all but carried her from the building. The undead army guided the escapees - oyster and Wonderlander alike - away from the casino and into the trees beyond the hilly property.

A horrible shrieking rent the air, not a human sound, not an animal sound, something that made her hair stand on end. Everyone stopped to look back as the Royal airship swung around the building like a ball on a tether. More of the suspension cables snapped, dropping the hull down at a ungainly angle. With a final groan of surrender, the enormous crimson balloon gave out, the envelope shredding. The ship slammed into the casino, the hull nearly perpendicular to the line of the roof, slicing into it like a blade. The air shook as the foundation finally crumbled under the immense strain. A gasp went up from the crowd as the building started to topple. The ship was already bursting in a series of explosions, the collapsing edifice taking the dirigible down with it.

A huge cloud of dust billowed and debris launched into the air, the ground shuddered under their feet as the Happy Hearts Casino fell, leaving nothing but rubble and flame to advocate the Queen of Hearts's monument of control.

"Dad!" Alice called, letting Hatter support her as she searched the stunned gathering for her father. "Dad!"

"Alice!" he finally called back. She pulled from her friend's hold and rushed to her fallen parent, who was being watched over by a small contingent of undead troops.

"God, Daddy," she said, kneeling over him. The grass under his back was already red with blood. She looked up, to the crowd of people, desperately calling, "Is anyone a doctor? I need a doctor!"

Miracle of miracles, a man in a diamond jacket stepped forward somewhat hesitantly. "I'm a doctor."

She didn't care at that moment whether he was Suit, oyster, or Jabberwock, so long as he could help her father. The girl waved him over urgently. "He's been shot. Please, help him."

The diamond doctor nodded. The man carefully rolled her father to his side, to get a look at his back. He accepted a dagger from one of the knights, though it was obvious that it kind of weirded him out as much as anyone else that the skeletons were up and moving around., and used it to cut away the vinyl lab coat. Alice held her father's hand as Hamilton hissed and grunted in pain. Hatter hovered anxiously behind her, pacing back and forth in the same four foot stretch like a lion in a cage. The doctor finally looked up, a small, small reassuring smile gracing his features.

"It looks like it's just a flesh wound," he proclaimed. Alice was too tightly wound to be relieved.

"Are you sure?" He nodded. When the man pointed at the injury, the girl leaned over her father to look.

"The bullet entered here, in the back of his shoulder. He's breathing fine, so it doesn't appear to have hit his lung. It might be embedded in his scapula, but the wound doesn't strike me as life threatening," he explained. "We still need to get him medical attention, but I think your father will be just fine."

The air left her in a whoosh and she slumped forward on her knees, shaking with relief. "Oh, thank God." Hatter dropped to the ground beside her, putting his hands on her shoulders and pulling her gently upright again, as if afraid she would pass out. She looked up at him, eyes glittering with tears of relief.

"Alice!" a familiar voice called through the commotion around them. "Alice, where are you?"

"Jack!" she cried in return, leaning on the man beside her to get to her feet. "We're here, Jack!"

The crowd parted revealing not only the Prince of Hearts, but the Duchess and, inconceivably, Caterpillar as well. It took Alice a moment to recognize the former Ten of Clubs, who looked quite a bit worse for wear. His robes had been taken and the only clothing he wore was a pair of dull gray pants. He too, sported a black eye and several large bruises to his torso. If it weren't so short, his hair would no doubt have been a tangled, sweaty mess. Jack rushed forward, pulling her into his arms. Alice winced and pushed at his chest, her ribs screaming in protest.

"You're hurt," he exclaimed, his face shifting from joy into a mask of worry as his touch instantly gentled to the point he was barely touching her at all.

"Not overly," she lied. She thought it was a lie, anyway. You couldn't hurt as badly as she did and not have something wrong with you. She was more worried about Hatter and her father at the moment than herself, however. "My father's been shot, Jack. We need to get him to a hospital."

He nodded, turning to Caterpillar. "We need a transport, send some Suits to find something. There must be a few that were far enough from the building to have survived."

The tall man nodded, turning to the Ace beside him and issuing the order. The Suit rushed off and the girl wondered just what the deal was. Was it because the Suits were so used to Jack and Caterpillar being in command that they followed their orders without question? Or did the Resistance have more sympathizers among the Queen's forces than she'd guessed? She realized she didn't care, so long as they had people on their side and her father would get the help he needed.

"You have interesting allies," Caterpillar remarked, looking at the undead knights milling about her. Yeah, she did have at that.

"Did they get you out, too?" she asked. The man shook his head.

"I know all the holes in the Queen's security measures," he replied with a cocky little grin. "Having put most of them there myself."

That caterpillar. He's an alright guy. Speaking of her less than breathing rescuers…

"Where's Charlie?" the girl demanded of the closest knight. He shook his head, shrugging to say without words that he did not know. "Find him," she ordered the group of paladins. They all saluted and half of them clanked away to carry out her command. That was a bit surreal.

Alice turned to Hatter now, intent on demanding he come clean about his injuries so she could get him medical attention as well. The man was smiling at her almost teasingly, which waylaid her tongue for just a moment.

"I don't suppose I could get that hug now, huh?" he asked, chocolate eyes sparking with good humor. She didn't know if she was about to kiss him or smack him, but it would definitely be one or the other. Maybe both.

"There!" Unfortunately, she never got the chance to find out. "She's there."

A chill swept through the little oyster like death, every good feeling she had been enjoying washed away in a torrent of ice water. She turned to see the Queen of Hearts herself, unharmed and flanked by a small army of Aces, stalking towards her.

"Take her," the monarch commanded. The Suits advanced menacingly. Suddenly, Alice found herself not only behind the ever protective form of Hatter, but a line of oysters as well.

"Touch the lady and I'll shuffle your deck," the black police officer from the casino room warned, using his cop voice. The girl was both stunned and incredibly touched by the display. She was also frightened for the people's safety. The Queen would have no qualms about putting them all down to get to her. The knights at her back surged forward, swords raised, pushing the Aces back.

The little oyster was struck by the scene then. Two Queens on a field of battle, each with her own army ready to defend her. But Alice was no queen, she wasn't even a leader. And she was shaking in her borrowed boots. The Queen of Hearts, a true royal ruler, sneered at the risen warriors of the Red King.

"I challenge you, Alice of Legend, to single combat!" she announced. The Knights lowered their weapons. What the Hell?

"What?!" Alice squeaked out. Single combat? She didn't even have a sword! Not that it mattered, the Vorpal Blade would slice right through it and her both. The paladins, bound by their code of honor, pushed the oysters back, making a path between the terrified girl and the cruel Queen. So this was how the evil woman was able to regain control over Wonderland. A hundred a fifty years ago, there had been no guns in the realm, of course. A sword that sliced through anything would have been the ultimate weapon. And now, it was being turned on Alice herself.

The Queen approached and the girl stepped back, bumping into a line of knights she hadn't known had circled behind her. The oysters shouted against this unfair fight, calling for her to run. There was nowhere to run. The Wonderlanders remained silent, watching in anxious anticipation of the battle. They knew the rules as Alice's people did not. This was Wonderland, not Earth. She had been challenged, she had no choice. The Knights, her greatest allies, had now become nothing more than a grisly audience to her death.

"Alice!" Hatter raged, restrained by no less than four sets of bony hands.

"Mother, don't do this!" Jack shouted, fighting against the warriors who held him back.

"Silence, blackguard!" Her royal eyes did not even flicker from her prey. She smiled at Alice, the smile of a thousand murders, a thousand cruel deaths. "And now, my dear, I shall be rid of you once and for all."

"Don't," was all the girl could manage. There were no lies to tell, no deals to be struck. The Queen of Hearts drew her sword, the blade glinting in the sun as she raised it high to strike. Alice was lamed and exhausted. She would not be able to put up much of a fight, but she'd be damned if she was going to put up _no_ fight at all. She shifted into a fighting stance as the blade came down. Barely managing to dodge away, she dropped down, swinging out her leg at the Queen. But she was slowed by her injuries and the woman seemed to be expecting her move.

The Queen of Hearts brought her own foot down at just the right moment, pinning Alice's sprained ankle to the unyielding ground below. The girl cried out in anguish as the monarch ground her heel into the damaged joint.

"Alice!" Hatter's impotent, furious shouts were the only sound in the forest other than her own pounding heart.

The Queen of Hearts lifted her weapon once more. The people were held by fear, the Knights by their vows. Hatter was only held by skeletal sentinels. Easily broken. His captors were left in piles, topped by useless armor and shattered skulls. He broke free of the retraining line. He wasn't a knight, but he was her champion.

As the Vorpal Blade swung down, the man's right fist shot out to intercept it. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? The world shatters.

Or in this case, the sword shattered and so did Hatter's arm. With a shout of agony, the man fell, clutching the destroyed limb to his chest. The Queen stumbled back, the hilt of the ruined blade all that remained in her hand. Alice got her feet under her and launched herself at the woman, taking her down hard with a primal scream of wrath. The ruler of Wonderland grunted and struggled, but was no match for the fury fueled girl.

Alice forced the Queen onto her stomach, planting a knee hard in the small of her back. The older woman flailed, trying to free herself, but to no avail. A good sized shard of the blade lay in the grass nearby and the girl snatched it up, not caring when the sharp edges sliced into her palm and fingers. She grabbed a handful of the Queens candy-apple red locks, yanking her head back sharply. The bit of metal went to her throat, nicking the skin and drawing blood.

Alice bent close and hissed to the helpless tyrant. "I'd kill you right now," she said, her words hard and icy as the Queens had been sentencing her son to death. "But I don't deserve the pleasure. You've got a lot of people to answer to."

Quick as a flash, the little oyster pulled the shard away from the royal neck and brought it down hard on the Queen's left hand, easily cutting through the third digit. Her majesty shrieked in pain and Alice let her go, watching as she rolled to the side, clutching her bleeding hand and screeching in horror.

The girl picked up the severed finger and pulled the ring from it. It was something she never would have dreamed of herself in her old life, back when the most important thing she needed worry about was finding a job, the greatest threat to her safety the chance of getting mugged or falling down the stairs, the biggest responsibility paying her cell phone bill on time. Now, she stood, a proud warrior, battered and painted with the blood of her enemy, and raised the Stone of Wonderland high above her head in victory.

A great cheer went up amongst the crowd, Wonderlanders and oysters alike - though the latter certainly had no idea what they were really cheering for. The proud Knights of the realm clanged their swords against their armor, unable to shout their exaltations. And in the center of it all, stood the Alice of Legend, fated to liberate Wonderland and bring an end to the tyranny of the Queen of Hearts. Funny how things work out.

But her victory wasn't what she was worried about. As Jack, finally freed, rushed forward, she shoved the ring into his hands and dropped to her knees beside Hatter. Tossing the shard of the Vorpal Blade aside, she reached for him, heedless of the way her blood smeared on his leather jacket.

"Hatter!" He struggled to sit up and she struggled to keep him down. "Don't move. I'm gonna get you some help." Alice looked to Jack beseechingly and the Prince called for aid.

"You did it," her fallen friend said, managing to smile proudly up at her through the pain. "You took out the Queen."

"_We_ did it," she insisted, the corners of her lips lifting despite the fact that smiling was the last thing she felt like doing.

Hatter pursed his lips contemplatively, then conceded. "I helped a little."

God, he was such an ass. He was lucky she liked him so well.

She was lucky he'd come into her life.

Wonderland was lucky in general, today at least.


	21. In the Wake

**Look, medical treatment. And, no, Alice isn't going straight home. It's silly to think they just shoved everyone right back through the Looking Glass twenty minutes after the Queen was defeated.**

* * *

Alice, her father, Hatter, and several of the oysters and casino workers were loaded into the three transports Jack's Suits managed to find and rushed off to the Hospital of Dreams in the city. Of course, they couldn't be cars, they had to be some kind of aircraft. So, there were no cars in Wonderland after all. Not that a car would have done any good in the termite's nest that was the city, with its narrow high wire pathways. Limiting people's means of conveyance would just be one more way for the Queen of Hearts to keep tight control over her subjects.

Hatter was uncharacteristically silent as they made the trip, sitting beside her. His eyes were squeezed shut tight against the pain, his skin too pale, which worried Alice quite a bit. She kept her eyes on him the entire flight. It was Hell seeing him suffer so and not be able to do a damned thing about it. When they reached the hospital the man was whisked away from her by the staff. The girl, herself, was hustled into an exam room where a lady doctor named Milligan and her nurse poked and prodded at her ribs and ankle, then used a huge machine that functioned as Wonderland's answer to an x-ray.

There was a knock on the door and the nurse went to see who it was and what they wanted. It was news. Charlie was safe and well, he and his undead soldiers were still at the casino sifting through the rubble for survivors. One down, the girl thought, two to go.

They moved on to her head. More weird x-ray machine, which made her hair stand on end and then following of fingers around the room. No, she didn't feel dizzy or lighted headed, yes she could hear and see properly. Alice had all but forgotten about the gash in her scalp. It hadn't really been hurting, until they started to clean it. She gritted her teeth against the stick of the needle in her skin as they gave her a local anesthetic to numb the area while they stitched her up. Regardless, her skull was throbbing by the time they finished and taped a gauze pad over the sixteen stitches. Her sliced palm and fingers were cleaned and covered with bandaids.

"Nothing is broken, but you have a rather bad sprain. You've got six bruised ribs," Milligan told her. "You crashed a flamingo?"

Alice nodded, wincing as the nurse wrapped her torso tightly with a bandage. "Yeah. Slid into a concrete wall."

"You're very lucky, Miss Alice," the doctor said.

"Don't I know it." As the nurse moved on to her ankle, the girl pulled her shirt back on. "I need to know about my father, Robert Hamil- er, Carpenter. He was shot? And my friend Hatter. I.. I don't know his full name."

"The one with the broken arm?" Alice nodded. The doctor ducked out of the room to get the information she had requested.

"So…." the nurse began timidly, looking up at her from under her long, dark lashes. "You're the Alice of Legend?"

Too weary to be annoyed by the mistake in identity, the oyster just shook her head. "No. I'm no Legend. Just got lucky, like she said."

The little brunette nurse didn't look convinced, but said no more, finishing up with the bandage on her patient's ankle quickly so she could move on to those with more serious injuries. Alice did not want to stay in the room, not alone, not at all. But she couldn't leave until Dr. Milligan came back and gave her the news she needed. It seemed like forever before the door to the exam room opened once more.

"Your father and friend are both in surgery," she said.

"Surgery?" Alice hopped off the table, favoring her injured leg. "Where?"

"If you'll wait, I can get an orderly to bring a wheel chair and take-"

The girl shook her head, cutting the physician off. "I'm fine. Give the chair to someone who needs it. Just point me in the right direction."

"But you're-"

"I'm the same as everyone else," Alice insisted. "Just tell me where to go."

Milligan nodded, giving her the directions she needed. The surgical floor was three levels above this one, she could follow the signs to the elevators. Limping along down the corridor Alice realize it wouldn't have hurt to ask for a pair of crutches, but it was too late now. The surgical unit was bustling with activity as the hospital staff rushed to treat those injured in the casino collapse. She wondered idly if the Queen was in one of the operating rooms having her finger reattached. She hoped not, the woman deserved the disfigurement.

"I thought I'd find you here." The girl turned to see Caterpillar meandering down the hallway towards her. He now wore a set of maroon scrubs instead of the dirty gray pants and a pair of hospital slippers.

"Do you know where my dad is?"

He nodded. "He's in Recovery. This way."

"That was fast," she remarked as he guided her through the unit. The tall man nodded.

"There are a lot of badly injured people to be tended to," he said. "It wasn't that bad a wound, really. He was very fortunate."

"Is he awake?" Caterpillar shook his head.

"He's still under anesthesia. He could wake up any time in the next hour or so."

"Where is Hatter?"

Caterpillar stopped at her question. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently led her off to the side of the corridor, speaking in a soft voice. This behavior brought a terrible sinking feeling into Alice's stomach.

"Hatter is still in surgery, Alice. The bones in his hand and arm weren't just broken, they shattered." She gasped softly, eyes rounding. _God, Hatter._ "The doctors are doing everything they can. We have the best in the city working on him now, but… he could lose the limb."

"_Jesus…_" It was fortuitous he had brought her close to the wall, because the girl had to lean on it to hold herself up after that bit of news.

He gave her a look of sympathy. "If it's any consolation, we have excellent prosthetics in Wonderland."

Alice scrubbed a hand over her face "Yeah. It's not." Her voice was a bit sarcastic as she added, "But thanks for trying." Caterpillar wasn't offended. He simply waited for her to get her bearings again. "Take me to Hatter."

"It could be several hours yet, Alice," the tall man said, dissuasively. She gave him a look.

"Like I have anything better to do?" She didn't. She couldn't talk to her father and Hatter was still under the knife. All she could do was sit across from the doors to the operating room in a hard plastic chair she had stolen from the nurse's station and wait. And wait. She'd started to doze off despite the gnawing worry in her gut, when an orderly approached her.

"Miss Hamilton?"

The girl jerked fully awake, eyes wide and anxious as she popped up from the chair. "What's happened?"

"Dr. Carpenter is awake," the man informed her. "I'm to take you to him."

Alice looked back at the doors to the operating room. She was torn. She needed to go to her father, be at his side, but she also needed to stay here and keep vigil. Neither was a desire, both were deep, physical _needs_. She looked to the orderly and licked her lips. The girl grabbed his arm and pulled him over, plunking him down in her chair.

"You know who I am?" He nodded. "Stay here," she ordered, not caring that it was unethical to use her fallacious Legend status against the man. "If anything changes, you tell me. You run to the nearest phone or whatever and you tell me, understand?" The man nodded. "Good. How do I get to Carpenter?"

Again wishing she had a pair of crutches, Alice hurried to her father in the Recovery Room. When she reached his bed, Hamilton looked up at her with slightly bleary eyes.

"Hey, Jellybean," he half breathed, his speech groggy and slurred. She sat on the edge of his bed and took hold of his hand.

"Hey, Daddy," she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. "How do you feel?"

"Like I was hit by a train," he answered with a little smile. She shook her head.

"No, _I_ got hit by the train," she argued softly. "You just got shot."

"You win." She chuckled very quietly. He was okay, he would be okay. Thank God.

"Soon, you'll be up and around," Alice assured him with a little smile. "And we can go home. Mom will be so happy to see you."

"Carol," her father sighed blissfully. She nodded.

"Yeah. And we'll have lasagna and garlic bread. I bet they don't have Mom's garlic bread here in Wonderland." He shook his head.

"Not even close." His eyes slipped shut and he sighed again. "Tired."

The girl nodded, patting his hand. "I know. You go ahead and sleep. I'll see you when you wake up."

"Thanks, sweetie," he whispered, his grip already loosening. He was out again before she even put his hand down and she just sat and watched him sleep. Her father. She had a father. After fourteen years, it was hard to believe. She rolled the words around in her mouth a bit, taking the time to appreciate them now as she had not been able to in the casino. _My father… my father…_

Eventually, a nurse came in, accompanied by an orderly, and rolled Hamilton/Carpenter into this own room. The nurse took is vitals and checked his IV, everything looking so similar to a hospital back home that she had to remind herself this was Wonderland. Just as they were finished getting the man settled, another nurse entered the room with news for Alice. Hatter would be out of surgery shortly.

Before the woman could say anything else, Alice was out the door. She reached the hall where Hatter's operating room was located just as they were pushing his gurney out the door. Her heart wrenched as she saw him, all wired up and helpless. His right arm was wrapped in thick, white bandages, but it was there. They hadn't taken it. She said a little prayer of thanks to whatever gods inhabited Wonderland.

"How is he?" she asked of the men who were pushing him along.

"Miss Hamilton?" called someone from the doorway to the surgical theatre. She looked up, but continued to move with the gurney. "I'm Dr. Powers. I can tell you about his condition."

"Then start walking," she told him, refusing to leave Hatter's side now that she was there again. The surgeon gave her a look of consternation, but did as she said, jogging a moment to catch up. "How bad is it?"

"Not so horrible as we originally thought," he told her.

"But Caterpillar said the bones shattered. That he might lose his arm," she said, confused. Had the leader of the Resistance been exaggerating or just misinformed?

"They were," the doctor conceded. "But, somehow, every fragment stayed right where it was. The bones were spider-webbed with fractures and should have - for lack of a better word - crumbled under the pull of the muscles. They didn't. Somehow, they retained their shape and integrity."

The girl's head was spinning all over again. She thought she understood what he was saying, for the most part. When the bones fractured, instead of each piece separating and destroying his arm, they had remained a whole. The doctor went on.

"I understand you are an oyster, so I won't go into the procedural details. We were able to fuse most of the fractures. Some of them were too severe, so your friend, Hatter, will have to wear a cast while nature takes over where we've left off. In a month or two, we'll see how it looks, but I think he should recover full use of his arm with minimal scarring."

This inexplicably good news made her legs stop working. The gurney went on, but the surgeon stayed with her. "So… he's going to be fine? His arm is…"

"It's the most incredible surgery I've ever performed and if it were anyone else, I'm certain we'd have had to amputate," he nodded. "I can almost guarantee you that, once we remove the cast, that man's limb will be as good as new."

Alice swayed on her feet, relief so profound she thought she might faint. Instead she threw her arms around the rather startled surgeon and hugged him tight. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

He chuckled uncomfortably and tried to extricate himself from her grasp. Clearing his throat, he went on, trying to distract her from her embarrassing display of gratitude. "His other injuries were relatively minor and should heal up in a week or two. Aside from the ribs."

"Ribs?" He got what he was aiming for as the girl pulled back and looked up at him.

"Yes. There were several that were fractured," he explain, smoothing out his hug-rumpled shirt. "But the cracks weren't serious and will mend fine on their own, so long as he takes it easy for a while. Also, his right eardrum ruptured, but we gave him some panacean drops, so it won't be an issue."

She nodded only partially hearing and half understanding what he was saying. She was too distracted by the words "good as new" echoing in her mind. He'd be fine. Miraculously, wonderfully, unexplainably fine. She could kiss that surgeon. She really could, but it would probably only fluster him more. A relieved, excited smile was forming on her lips as she turned to look at Hatter, only to find him gone. Of course, the others would not have waited around while she was getting a rundown of his condition. Crap.

"Where did they take him?"

"The Recovery Room, but you-" She was already moving. He hurried after her. "You can't go in there; they're putting his cast on. You're not sterile, you could cause an infection."

The way he said it made Alice think he didn't mean she hadn't washed her hands. She couldn't help but ponder what manner if unkind preconceptions Wonderlanders had about oysters. Legendary or not. It didn't stop her though, not until she reached the doors and could peer through the little window slit. The other doctors or nurses or whoever they are were, indeed, setting Hatter's arm in a cast. The girl hovered anxiously outside the door, waiting for them to finish. The plaster - what she assumed was plaster - wasn't white, but a pale, creamy sherbet color and covered his arm from shoulder to fingertips. She'd expected them to put one of those braces on him, to hold the limb out from his torso, but instead it was bent at the elbow so, when he lay down, it rested against his stomach. That had to be much more comfortable than the oyster way of doing things. She didn't even try to wrap her mind around Wonderland medicine for the time being, just trusted it would work. Though, she was a bit dubious when they pulled out little hair dryers and started blowing the plaster dry.

She was practically gnawing at the bit when the medical technicians finally finished. They checked him over one last time and left the room. Dr. Powers caught Alice's arm when she tried to enter as they exited.

"I told you, you can't-"

She gripped his wrist and snatched his hand off of her person, leveling a hard gaze on him. "I'm going in there. If you want to stop me, call security." Not that it would matter if he did. Nothing the man could do would stop her. She turned from him without a pause and entered the Recovery Unit, making her way quietly to Hatter's bedside.

Bare from the waist up and unconscious, he looked so heartbreakingly fragile. Wires trailed from his chest to a monitor next to the bed, which beeped with steady rhythm. An IV with an unfamiliarly blue liquid had been inserted into his left arm. There were still little lines of residual tape glue on his face where they had secured the breathing mask in place. The blood and dirt had all been washed away and his skin fairly glowed, looking smooth and soft even in the harsh industrial lighting. The abrasions on his forehead were covered with a gauze pad, the scratch held together with two tiny butterfly bandaids. His black eye was even darker than she remembered and there were other bruises on his face and shoulders than she had not been able to see before because of dirt and clothing. His torso was wrapped tightly in bandages, like her ankle, to keep the ribs stable as they healed. Her fingertips ghosted across the faintly orange cast, which felt more like hardened rubber than plaster.

Her knees shook slightly, but she didn't dare try to sit on the edge of his bed as she had her father's. Presently, her eyes fell on a mark so deep eggplant it was nearly black. Just below his collarbone, beneath his left shoulder. Dodo's bullet. The first time he'd put himself between her and death. Her own personal guardian angel, supporting her as she limped on a sprained ankle while he suffered cracked ribs and who knew what other painful injuries. Alice was a hazard to Hatter. She was so grateful to him to the point it could, quite reasonably, be mistaken for worship. Only fitting, as it was also mingled with a crushing sense of guilt. All she had taken from this man and he had asked nothing in return. The Stone notwithstanding, as that wasn't for himself, but to benefit his people. She was properly humbled.

Despite the overwhelming sense of fragility, he looked incredibly peaceful, as he had sleeping against the gate at Charlie's. His hair was still tousled charmingly, a few of the bangs curving lightly against his forehead. His chest rose and fell as steadily as the beating of his heart. Alice, deeply fatigued, both mentally and physically, was lulled by the constant rhythm, her eyes and limbs growing heavy to the point she swayed on her feet more than once before an orderly came in with another hard plastic chair. She vaguely wondered how many people were out there watching her watching over Hatter as she sank into the seat.

Unable to help herself, the girl reached out, touching the unconscious man's uninjured hand as though it were spun sugar and would crumble under her fingertips. His palm was as rough as she remembered, trailing her fingers over it reverently. The weight of her exhaustion and relief pulled her down, unwillingly, until her head rested on her forearm on the bed beside Hatter's hip. Her fingers were still tracing the lines of his hand as her eyes slipped shut and the world faded away to the sound of a single, regular beep.

"Alice…" The soft, hoarse grunt of her name brought the battered little oyster back to Wonderland as easily as the loudest shout. She sat up too quickly and her head spun for an instant because of it. Not that she cared. Her hands closed around the one resting on the thin mattress, holding it as firmly as she dared.

"Hatter?" the girl whispered, looking to the man's face. His brows were furrowed and he was frowning as he tried to open his eyes, wincing at the glare of the lights overhead.

"Alice…" he said again, his gaze searching for hers. She stood so he would not have to turn his head. Once his eyes found her, the frown faded just slightly. "You okay?"

She rolled her eyes and tried to decided between laughing and scowling at him. "You're out of your mind, you know that?" She settled for an admonishing comment and a soft smile. "You're the one in the hospital bed."

"Hospital?" His mouth and brows pinched in confusion and he shifted, as though trying to sit up. A soft groan of pain slipped from his lips as his broken arm moved and his abs tightened under the bandage, squeezing his cracked ribs. Alice quickly pressed a hand to his bare shoulder, the other laid across the cast.

"Don't try to sit up," she told him quickly, forgetting to whisper and catching herself. "Your arm is broken and your ribs. Just lay still."

She lightly brushed her fingers across his forehead, trying to sooth him into relaxing once more. It worked, his eyelids fluttering shut for a moment at her touch. A soft sigh raised and dropped his chest before his breathing returned to normal. He licked his lips, which even she could see were horribly dry, and swallowed. They needed some ice chips, she thought. Did they have ice chips in Wonderland? Surely the Queen would have allowed refrigerators and freezers through the Looking Glass. As Alice was looking for some way to call in a nurse, Hatter spoke again.

"What happened?" His voice was soft and sandpapery and she really needed to get him that ice.

"You shattered the Vorpal Blade," she told him. Chocolate eyes opened once more, looking up at her in a very weary version of incredulity. She scowled with gentle playfulness down at him. "Don't give me that look. You did. You saved me. Again."

This seemed to please the man and his lips formed a little, self-satisfied smile. "That's right. I remember." Her own smile widened. He had the right to feel a little smug, she thought. He'd saved the day.

Alice stayed by Hatter's side for the rest of the day and into the night, not budging until well after her friend had finally woken fully and eaten dinner - complaining about the hospital food the entire time. She was nice enough not to point out that he had wolfed down two entire meals of the "inedible slop". Wonder of wonders, the hospital staff had placed Hatter and Hamilton/Carpenter in the same double room so she didn't have to choose between them. This was too good to be a coincidence and, not for the first time, Alice wondered where Jack was and how closely he was keeping an eye on her and her affairs. Presently a knock sounded at the door and, low and behold, the White Knight entered.

"Charlie!" Alice shouted joyfully, leaping up from her place between the two beds and launching herself at the old paladin. He was wearing his mail coat and boots, but not the rest of the heavy armor so she was able to give him a proper hug. He smiled widely and squeezed her in return, patting her back as he had on the beach. Pulling back from the embrace, Alice glared up at the bandage wrapped around his head as though it were a parasite. "They told me you were okay."

He blushed under her concern. "Fit as a fiddle and twice as fine," the knight insisted, puffing up his chest. This move, however, seemed to send a twinge of pain to his skull and he winced, posture slumping once again. "I was wounded on the field of battle, but rest assured, My lady, that it is only a minor scrape. Nothing to fret over."

She didn't like it and didn't think he was telling her the whole truth, but let it go. He was obviously well enough to be up and moving around, so she just had to take his word for it. For now.

"Hey, Charlie," Hatter cast him a smile from the bed. The old paladin returned it.

"Greetings, Harbinger," he gave a little bow which raised the former-Tea Shop owner's eyebrows. "You appear a bit worse for the wear."

The darker man chuckled. "I may not be fit as a butcher's dog, but I'll live." Alice giggle softly at the comment. "That was quite a spectacle you put on today. Raising the army of the Red King? Impressive."

"How did you do that, Charlie?" the girl asked. Sir Charles's grin was wide as the Cheshire Cat's.

"I'm a knight." Should have guessed. "And I did tell you I dabble in the Black Arts."

"I don't think 'dabble' is the word for it," Hatter snarked, but was obviously impressed.

"You really showed 'em, Charlie," Alice praised softly, her throat tightening up just a touch. She was so proud of him.

His eyes softened with humility and gratitude. "Thanks to you, Alice."

It was the first time he had used her proper name and that touched her. She hugged him again, trying not to tear up. It was only the stress and exhaustion of the last few days that made her waterworks have such a hair trigger. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

"Charlie, this is my father," she said, smiling brightly, leading him to the foot of Hamilton's bed. The White Knight bowed as low as his head injury would permit.

"It is an honor, sir." Her father looked uncomfortable at the display of deference, but nodded in return.

"Thank you for taking care of my daughter," he said to the knight as he had to Hatter when Alice introduced them earlier. Charlie put a hand over his heart.

"My honor and pleasure, sir. The lady Alice is a joy to serve." Alice couldn't help but chuckle and shook her head.

"I wouldn't go that far, Charlie," she remarked, looking for a way to take the focus of conversation off of herself. "What happens to the knights now?"

The old gentleman's face fell so fast the girl wished she'd kept her mouth shut and let them continue to sing her praises. He cleared his throat and seemed to have trouble meting her eyes.

"I had meant to speak with you on that regard," he admitted with uncharacteristic timidity. "You see, now that their work is complete, the Knights must return to their rest. I… That is, would you…"

She got it. He wanted her to come back to the Kingdom with him as the skeletal soldiers went back to their eternal slumber. It was dark out and she was sore and exhausted, the last thing she wanted was to ride out to the ruined city and stand around while a bunch of walking piles of bones laid down for a dirt nap. So, of course, she clasped a hand to Charlie's shoulder.

"I'll go with you."

"Go where?" Hamilton asked. Hatter perked, spoonful of pudding pausing halfway between the cup and his mouth.

"The Kingdom of the Knights," Alice told him. The spoon clattered to the plate.

"The Hell you are," Hatter declared. "You're not riding all the way out there in the dark."

"Alice, you can't go anywhere," her father agreed. The girl shook her head at both of them.

"I can and I am," she stated firmly.

"Then, I'm coming with you," her friend announced, pushing his tray away and tossing back his blanket to reveal a pair of long, slightly pale legs protruding from beneath his hospital gown. Alice snorted with amusement even as she went to waylay him getting out of bed.

"_You_ are staying right where you are," she insisted, putting her hands on his shoulders. As sore as he was, she didn't need to push him back. So long as she kept her hands firm, he couldn't manage the fortitude to push against them and rise. Finally, he flopped back against the bed, wincing at the twinge of pain it caused. She fussed over him, retucking the blankets around his hips.

He scowled up at her like a petulant child. "What's that smirk about? Cause I'm helpless?"

She shook her head and grinned at him fully. "Nice legs." She winked and he actually blushed, ears tingeing slightly pink.

"Alice, you really can't just go off on your own," her father continued to protest. She laughed, clutching her aching ribs.

"It's not funny," Hatter admonished. "There are hundreds of Suits out there runnin' about. There _are_ people who support the Queen, you know. It's too dangerous."

The girl leaned on Hatter's bed, shaking her head as her outburst of mirth subsided. "I'm going to be surrounded by a thousand undead knights. I don't think anyone's gonna try anything," she pointed out. Neither her father or Hatter seemed to have connected those dots, but neither seemed mollified by the fact either. Not even when Charlie swore on his honor to keep her safe. But they both knew they couldn't stop her.

"Take my jacket, at least," Hatter told her. "It's bound to be freezing out."

Alice gave him a gentle, appreciative smile and patted the blanket over his shin. "Your jacket is covered in dirt and blood," she pointed out. To placate him, she added, "But I'll find something to wear before I leave, okay?"

He nodded grudgingly. Her reassurance that she would be fine did nothing to remove the frowns from either man's face as she left the room, walking with Charlie towards the elevators. As it happened, it was rather chilly out and she did not find anything before she left, but Hatter and her father need never know that. Not that she was disregarding their concerns, but she worried that if she hung around an extra moment or two, Jack would find out about her leaving and he had considerable more clout to use against her than the other two. He would no doubt insist that his Suits, if not himself, escort her along with the Knights. She couldn't allow that. This was something private. Alice wouldn't have a bunch of strangers gawking at the Knights as they returned to their graves.

Charlie was silent on the ride back to the Kingdom. The absence of his familiar, repetitious singing making the night seem that much more still. The only sounds as they traveled were the horses' footfalls and the soft clattering and clanking of bone and metal. Side by side she stood with the White Knight, watching by moonlight as his brethren returned from whence they came.

Each Knight removed their armor, setting it neatly in rows inside the cathedral before filing back behind the building to the massive graveyard Charlie had not shown her before. Every one saluted their general and moved on. It was horrifying to watch as each one climbed down into their own grave while others shoveled what dirt had been displaced back atop them. Yet, Alice's horror was well overshadowed by a feeling of profound honor at her presence having been not only allowed, but welcomed at this event.

She heard Charlie's softly hitching breath and curled her hand over his shoulder in a silent show of support. She could not even begin to imagine the tempest of emotion within him. He'd finally proven himself to the great Knights of the realm, but still had to watch them slip back into their final resting places. Graves, Alice knew, he had dug himself at only ten years old. The last man standing was the Red King himself. The noble ruler stood before Charlie and curled a bony hand around the knight's bicep. The king then touched his hand to Charlie's chest before thumping his fist once against his own sternum. The White Knight broke down completely at that, tear flowing freely. Alice had no real idea what the gesture meant, but could guess. The Red King looked to her, opening his hand against his ribs and bowing. He then turned and retook his place on the throne and the girl watched as the life flowed out of him, leaving nothing but bones behind.

When it was finished, the sun was starting to rise over the horizon. Charlie, worn and weary, did not protest when Alice put him to sleep in his own bed instead of the hammock. She hugged her arms in the frosty morning air, her body crying for rest but her mind too active to allow it. A fire would be just the thing to take the chill from her skin. As she crossed to the fire pit, she saw it. A drape of rich purple hanging from the ladder to the bathtub's water tank. Hatter's coat.

The girl went to it, running her fingers over the lush velvet material before pulling the garment from its perch. She pulled it on, marveling at how despite sitting out in the cold, damp night air, the coat was still beautifully warm against her skin. Alice sat at the foot of the ladder, leaning back against it and hugging the luxurious folds around her. She was wearing Hatter's jacket after all. That should make him happy. As the sun rose in the sky, the tired, little oyster dozed, a little smile on her face.

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**BTW, yes, those of you who wondered, this story will extend a bit beyond the kiss at the end of the mini.**


	22. Setting Things Right

**Hey all! I;ve been sick this week, so I wasn't able to write. Sucks. But I finally finished this chapter and feel much better. Hopefully I won't relapse. -crosses fingers- Enjoy!**

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As she never truly fell asleep, Alice wasn't particularly startled when the early warning raven started crowing madly as its cage shook. She opened her eyes and stretched, wincing as her sore ribs twinged in protest. Charlie shouted from within the barn, emerging a moment later in his long johns, wielding his sword.

"Intruders! I shall defend you, Justalice!" he announced boldly, bringing a smile to her face. So it was back to Justalice, again?

"It's just Jack, Charlie," she said, not even standing up. Of course, Hatter or her father would have sent up the alarm about her departure the second she and Charlie were out of the room. It was good of the prince to give her and the White Knight enough time to see the risen paladins to their rest before coming out after her. It spoke well of his respect for the warriors of the Kingdom and his feelings for her.

"Jack?" the still sleepy old knight asked, perplexed, lowering his sword.

They could hear the horse approaching long before it appeared on the west trail entering the clearing. However, instead of the bleached blonde head she was expecting to see atop the horse, there was shining midnight in its place.

Caterpillar pulled his steed to a halt and dismounted, loping the reigns around a tree branch. He nodded a greeting to the knight. The recognition between the two men told Alice they had met before now, probably when Charlie and his army were helping with the rescue effort in the casino rubble. The tall man located her easily, as purple tends to stand out against an earthy backdrop, and walked to where she was still resting against the ladder. His scrubs had been traded in for a pair of black slacks and a white button down, untucked, with the sleeves rolled up; far simpler than his Clubs' robes had been. He had trimmed his goatee, doing away with the ridiculous point at the end. He seemed far more comfortable in his own skin now. The new look suited him.

"I wasn't expecting you," she said by way of greeting. It wasn't unkind, just honest. He nodded.

"Jack is fairly swamped right now," Caterpillar excused his… friend? Cohort? "A coup is not as simple as just defeating the Queen. There is a lot of work still to be done."

Alice nodded. It was true and entirely reasonable. "Bullshit." She forgot to maintain her lady-like vernacular in the presence of her most avid supporter, but Charlie didn't seem to mind. "He's just not ready to talk to me, yet."

Her tone was weary as she shifted on her butt, using the ladder to pull herself upright. The tall man stepped closer, offering his aid but she waved him away. "I got it."

"I would like to apologize for my part in the deception," he said then. "If we thought there was another way, we'd have taken it."

Sir Charles cleared his throat, obviously feeling a bit awkward listening in on this subject of conversation. He excused himself on the premise of gathering wood for the morning's fire and left the clearing. His sense of honor never ceased to surprise Alice, who was used to the casual apathy of the modern Earth-bound male. Speaking of casual apathy…

"If he was going to lie his ass off to me anyway, you don't think you guys could have come up with something that didn't involve me-" she couldn't say "falling in love", because she didn't believe she had. Not really. "-getting my heart broken?"

There, that sounded properly serious and dramatic. It was true, also. He frowned regretfully, which did little to sooth her injured pride and nothing for her heart. At least he cared enough to feel bad about the whole thing. That was something.

"Look, I know you guys were desperate," Alice told him with a fatigued sigh. "I understand why you did what you thought you had to do, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I'll get over it, but not today."

He nodded. Good. They understood each other. After a silent moment, Caterpillar looked about himself.

"I've never been to the Kingdom of the Knights," he remarked softly.

"It's something else," she nodded, pulling the coat around her, even though the sun was high enough now to have burned away much of the night's chill. The soft velvet against her hands reminded her. "The Resistance knows what Hatter did for Wonderland, right?"

Caterpillar's brown eyes returned to hers. "Yes."

She didn't leave it at that, wanting to make certain he understood what she was asking of him. "They know exactly what he did? How he sacrificed? That he's a hero?"

The man nodded firmly. "They know." His expression was shrewd as he looked at her, then added, "If your worried about Dodo, you don't have to be. He's been dealt with. His people know Hatter is not to be touched."

He didn't offer details on just how Dodo had been "dealt with" and she didn't ask. Had it been left up to her, she'd have chosen a punishment worthy of the Queen of Hearts. That thought was a little disconcerting, as she'd never been particularly murderous before coming to Wonderland. The man had shot Hatter and on that, she was downright bloodthirsty.

"Good. I want everyone to know," she stated, her tone brooking no argument. "Not just the fight at the casino, I want the whole realm to know everything he's done to save it."

The corner of Caterpillar's lips quirked up in respectful amusement. "Any other demands?"

Alice was about to shake her head, but stopped. "Come to think of it, yes," she said instead, taking advantage of Charlie's absence. Not that she thought he would be upset by her next decree, but it might make him feel pitied or beholden to her. "No one sets foot in the Kingdom until the White Knight gives his blessing."

This seemed to be a bone of contention for the Resistance leader. "This city belongs to the world, not one man. People need to see it to reconnect with what Wonderland once was and can be again."

"That's all true, but they'll just have to wait," she said, eyes hardening into blue-gray steel. "He's the last knight in Wonderland and this is his home. His people died here. I won't have tourists tramping around in here unless he's ready for it. I don't care how long it takes. No one enters this city. Your people owe him that respect."

One midnight brow lifted and while she was fairly certain he could see her point of view, he still challenged, "And on whose authority are you giving these commands?"

Alice lifted her own brow in return, lips curling ever so slightly in a crafty sort of smile. "I am the Alice of Legend, aren't I?"

She never could have come back with that if Sir Charles had been present. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her statement, jaw shifting to the side a touch in understanding. "Are you?"

The girl shook her head. "No. But no one believes that."

No matter how she protested or what her obvious shortcomings were, no one could accept the fact that she was nothing more than a girl who fell through a mirror and landed in a heap of trouble. It might be unethical, but for her friends she was willing to put that misconception to good use. Scruples be damned. Caterpillar chuckled softly and nodded.

"No, no one does," he agreed. The way he phrased it stood out in her mind. Could it be that Caterpillar himself was a believer? There was a surprising thought. She moved on quickly, not liking that someone who knew the truth about how and why she had come to Wonderland could be taken in by the ridiculous notion that she was something more than ordinary.

"Jack sent you to bring me back to the city?"

"To look after you. If you wish to return to the city, I will escort you. If you wish to stay here in the Kingdom, I will stay with you."

"Isn't there something more important you could be doing?" she pointed out. "I mean, I'm fine here with Charlie. I'm sure with all that needs taking care of, you should be back with Jack."

"True, but not my call to make," he shrugged. Alice tilted her head to the side.

"Is Jack King, now?" Why hadn't that obvious thought occurred to her until just then?

The tall man held out a flattened hand and teetered it back and forth. "Technically, no. He hasn't been coronated, yet, but it's just a formality."

"Right back into a monarchy?" Her brows furrowed in disbelief. Hadn't they learned their lesson with the Queen?

"It's what Wonderland knows. It's how things are done," he explained. "That may change one day, but not right now."

Alice supposed too much change all at once would do more harm than good. She turned to look up at the sun, just rising above the canopy. Charlie's incessant singing could be heard filtering through the trees and made her smile.

"Your father has been released from the hospital." That statement snapped her attention firmly back onto Caterpillar.

"What? Already?" That was way too fast. Wasn't it?

"As I said last night, his surgery was really quite minor. He'll be sore for a while, but that's about it."

She couldn't quite accept that her father being shot in the back could possibly be a minor injury, but that just might be her perception being a little skewed. "Where is he now?"

"With Jack. Helping to sort out the displaced oysters. It will take a day or so to work out who they all are and where and when they are from, then figure out what to do with them."

"What do you mean, 'what do to with them'?" Alice's brows furrowed again as she frowned over his choice of words.

"Some of those people have been here for years," he explained. "We can't just shove them back through the Looking Glass and wish them a safe journey. Some we can send back to a few minutes after they were taken, but for others that would be impossible. We have to fabricate plausible explanations for their absence, provide them with reparation for all that has been done to them."

"Send them back? What, in time?" The girl blinked.

"The Looking Glass does not only function on two dimensions. We can use it to choose a specific time as well as a location. Thankfully. Many of the oysters can go home and live their lives as though nothing ever happened."

It was a nice sentiment, but entirely false. Alice shook her head with a dry chuckle. "No, they can't."

Caterpillar understood what she meant and nodded. "It's the best we can do for them. The suffering caused by the Queen of Hearts will long linger in both our worlds."

It was a sad truth. One small, selfish woman had caused so much pain for so many. Alice was glad she was not charged with deciding her fate. She fingered the soft material of her - Hatter's - coat.

"How was Hatter when you left?"

The raven-haired man grinned. "Threatening to break out of the hospital and steal a horse to come out here after you."

Alice laughed and shook her head. That sounded like Hatter alright. "They are keeping him in bed, right?"

"Yes. The doctors are under orders to sedate him if he actually tries anything." The girl frowned at that. If they were to drug him if he attempted to make a break for it, that meant he was most likely sedated right now. She knew Hatter that well. Sitting and doing nothing when he thought there was something to be done would be like torture for the man. Hell, keeping still _at all _at any given moment was hard enough as it was.

She had to go back to the city. Her gaze turned towards the suit of armor hanging on its stand near the tub. It was unacceptable to just leave Charlie right now, not after all he had been through. But the man was in no shape to be gallivanting around the skyscape. The little oyster felt so torn inside, pulled in so many different directions. Back home, the only people she had to concern herself with were her mother and herself and her mother usually came first. Then, there came Jack and it was hard enough dealing with her feelings for him and her mother's trepidations. In Wonderland, she had so many people to be responsible for; Hatter, Charlie, her father, Jack… there was only so much of her to go around. She was spread ridiculously thin as it was with her injuries and lack of sleep.

"If I asked you to stay here with Sir Charles while I rode back to the city alone, would you?" Alice asked the tall man. He contemplated her for a moment before responding.

"As the Alice of Legend?" She shook her head.

"No. Just me asking. I can't leave him here alone, but I can't stay right now," she told him. Before Caterpillar could answer, the knight in question wandered back into the clearing, arms loaded with sticks. As he dropped them on the already sizable pile near the fire pit, the leader of the Resistance regarded him thoughtfully.

"Sir Charles," he said, striding over to the older man. "I was wondering if you would be so kind as to permit me to remain here in the Kingdom for a short time and, perhaps, show me around a bit? This great city is the lost heart of Wonderland. We must see to it that it does not remain forgotten."

Charlie nodded, spine straightening a bit, his eyes brightening. Alice's trepidation over her friend's emotional state eased considerably. The White Knight would be just fine. He was made of tough stuff, that Sir Charles.

"Charlie," she said softly to the white haired paladin, moving to take his hand and pull him away from Caterpillar for a private word. "I have to go back to the city."

He nodded, not surprised by her statement at all. "Your Harbinger will need looking after."

She tilted her head, brows furrowing just slightly at his insightfulness. When and how Hatter had gone from "vassal" to "harbinger" she didn't know, but would love to find out. Later. The girl leaned up and placed a kiss on the old man's cheek.

"I'll see you later, Charlie," she smiled up at him as his cheeks, nose, and scalp turned cherry red. He bowed shortly, lips pinching together to hide his giddy smile. Adorable old coot.

Caterpillar saddled Guinevere for her, as the White Knight was busy cooking up some jabberwock eggs for breakfast. Alice was sorry she would miss that, but - with the raven-haired man's help - mounted her horse and rode out of the Kingdom. The trail looked different during the day than at night, but was easy to follow. Finding her way to the Hospital of Dreams was a little trickier, as she did not know her way at all around the city. Unlike her previous forays into the metropolis, there were actually people milling about for her to ask directions. It looked like an entirely different place as Wonderlanders traversed the narrow pathways with ease.

It was only as Alice was crossing the bridge to the hospital that she realized she had not felt sick or gotten dizzy once. There was no vertigo, there was no cold sweat. She supposed her little flamingo flight had been more therapeutic than she realized. Though, once you've crashed a flying jet ski and lived to tell the tale, walking along relatively solid ground wasn't quite so horrifying anymore, was it? Not that the girl was one to tempt fate, so she kept her eyes to herself for the time being.

Inside the hospital, Alice made her way up to the room Hatter and her father had occupied the night before. She knocked lightly on the door and received an irritated grunt in reply. Shaking her head and smiling amusedly, she entered the room.

"Well, hello to you, too, sunshine," she teased. Hatter's head snapped towards her, his eyes lighting up. The girl couldn't remember her entering a room ever having quite that effect on anyone before and it gave her pause.

"You're back," he said, sounding relieved, shoulders relaxing against the pillow at his back. Those dark eyes took in the purple velvet and his lips twitched just barely. She had been right about it pleasing him to see her wearing his coat. Not that he let that take his attention from being annoyed with her. He gave her a look of reproof. "I was going stir crazy here. Do you know they tried to stick me with a needle when I said I was heading out after you?"

"I heard," she nodded, moving to retake her chair, which still sat between the beds. "I bet you've been giving the nurses all kinds of trouble."

He snorted indignantly. "I have not." Yeah, that was convincing. "Your boyfriend told them not to let me leave the room."

"Good. You don't need to be running all over Wonderland in your state," Alice told him with an chiding frown. Hearing him call Jack her boyfriend made her stomach twist uncomfortably. He frowned right back.

"I could say the same about you." His gaze flickered over each of her many injuries and bandages for what had to be the millionth time since he'd come out of sedation the night before. How those lovely chocolate eyes could go from sparkling to darkly fuming was a mystery to her. She quickly changed the subject.

"How was breakfast?"

His lip curled in disgust. "Atrocious." She let out a soft laugh at his distaste and was rewarded with a little smile curling up the corners of his lips.

"You poor thing," she teased gently. He nodded, poking out his bottom lip in a pout. Pouting was not something Alice had ever thought to associate with Hatter, so seeing that expression on his face was too funny and she laughed fully, hugging her sore ribs. The door opened and an orderly came in carrying a green plastic bag.

"Here are your-oh!" the man, who looked about Hatter's age, but a bit softer and rounder in every aspect, stopped short upon seeing the girl there. His blue eyes took on a panicked shine, flicking from her to the patient and back. "I, uh…"

Confused by the orderly's behavior, Alice looked to Hatter. "Just give 'em here," he told the man, motioning with his good hand. Jittery as a Chihuahua, he made his way across the room and deposited the bag on her friend's lap.

"The, uh-"

"I'll get it to you," Hatter told him firmly and the man nodded. He glanced at her one last time and scurried out of the room. The girl lifted her brows in question.

"What was that about?"

"I told you I was going stir crazy," was his response. Alice took the bag from him, then, and looked inside. The loud gold and crimson pattern caught her attention straight off and she knew exactly what she was looking at.

"Did you pay that guy to sneak you your clothes?"

Hatter shrugged, wincing as he forgot about his broken arm. "Not yet."

So, instead of making a loud, very noticeable exit, he was going to creep his way out of the hospital. The girl opened her mouth to scold him, when the door opened again. This time, a nurse entered carrying a clip board.

"Well, looks like you're getting your walking papers, Hatter," she said with a warm little smile. She was slim and pretty with copper red hair and fair, almost translucent skin; bright green eyes and pouting ruby lips. Her tone was as warm as her smile which tightened the little oyster's shoulders. Upon seeing Alice, the nurse's smile turned polite, but her eyes kept their intent cast, barely acknowledging her before moving back to the man in the bed.

"Really?" he asked, sounding dubious. "Because five minutes ago you told me I wasn't going anywhere."

Those too red lips gathered into a Betty Boop smile, her button nose wrinkling fetchingly. "Things change. The chief of staff called down and said you can leave whenever you want."

"But he just had surgery," Alice protested, concerned. The redhead turned to her, the ever shifting smile taking on a curve of condescension.

"I know it's hard to reconcile Wonderland medicine with that of your world-" Like she was from Jersey or something. "-but, Hatter is perfectly well enough to leave the hospital. So long as he follows his doctor's orders." This last bit was said to the man himself with a sickeningly cutesy tone of voice and a wag of her finger.

Alice didn't like the way the woman called him Hatter. Yes, it was his name, but there was something in the way she said it that irked the oyster. Like she was saying "steak" instead of "Hatter". Of course, her friend was attractive and charming as Hell. Even before the casino, the former-Tea Shop owner would have been quite the catch. Now that he was officially a hero, he would be a hot commodity indeed. The nurse reminded the girl of a shark, though.

"So, give me whatever I have to sign. I can't get out of here soon enough," he pronounced, holding out his hand for whatever forms were on the clipboard. The woman sashayed over, holding the paperwork for him to sign. It wasn't as awkward as she expected, leaving Alice wondering if Hatter was left handed.

"I'll get your clothes and - oh, what's this?" She took the bag from the girl and peered inside. Pursing her lips, she turned narrowed eyes on Hatter. "Naughty boy."

_I think I'm gonna puke._ With the nurse's attention firmly fixed on her patient, the little oyster was free to roll her eyes in disgust. The man's focus wasn't so set and he covered up a chuckle with a cough into his fist.

"If you would step out, I need to help your friend get dressed," the nurse said, turning back to Alice. "Unless you'd rather stay?"

Hatter sat up straight, wincing as his ribs twinged, holding out a hand to the nurse in protest. "Lacy-"

"No, it's fine," the little oyster said quickly, popping to her feet with an unconcerned smile. "I'll just be out in the hall."

She hurried out of the room so neither Hatter nor his new acquaintance could see the heat rising in her cheeks. The man needed to get dressed if he was going to leave and _someone_ had to help him. She wasn't happy about it being Lacy, but there was no chance in Hell Alice was going to be the one. It would be too awkward, too uncomfortable. What if her eyes strayed into areas they had no business straying? She'd never be able to look Hatter in the face again. Which would be a shame, as she rather enjoyed looking at his face.

The girl started to regret her decision of leaving the two of them alone when she heard a feminine giggle from the other side of the door. _That's just unprofessional._ A few moments later, the door opened again. Lacy cast her an almost conspiratorial look as she passed by. Okay. Alice went back into the room to find Hatter trying to button his shirt with one hand. Of course, the redhead had helped him with his pants. The girl brushed his hand away and took over the task. It wasn't as though she hadn't already seen him shirtless, but the little glimpses of bare flesh beneath the scarlet material seemed somehow more intimate.

"Hatter," she began softly, meeting his eyes. "This shirt really smells."

He snorted with a little eye roll. "Unlike you, I wasn't given a costume change in the script," he snarked. Then, lifting his arm, he sniffed at the sleeve of his shirt and winced. "You're right. I hope the Suits left me at least one wearable shirt."

"Maybe Ratty can loan you something," she grinned at him, finishing up the last button.

"Am I offending your delicate sensibilities?" he inquired in response, reaching for his fairly ruined leather jacket. Alice nodded.

"Yes. I'm offended," she answered in a flat monotone. He only smirked, draping the jacket across his arm. "Tie?"

"They bloody well ruined it," he frowned, motioning her towards the door. "Cut it off when they brought me in."

"A travesty," she lamented, heading out into the corridor. "I liked that tie."

He nodded solemnly. "I threatened bodily harm if they tried that on me shirt. I love this shirt."

She smiled. "It suits you."

As they made their way to the elevators, his lips formed a little amused smile. "Just out of curiosity, are you wearing those shorts under your knightly trousers?"

"As a matter of fact I am," she told him, pressing the button, feigning insult at his humor over her choice of undergarments. If he hadn't been rude enough to look up her skirt in the first place, he never would have known about them. "I like those shorts."

The doors slid open and they stepped inside, Hatter hitting the button for the lobby. He grinned at her. "I do, too."

"I was right," she announced, shaking her head and trying not to laugh. "You're a pervert. I knew it the first time I saw you."

"Did you now?" he asked, brows lifting. She nodded emphatically. He smirked. "And you still let me climb down the ladder first. Interesting."

Alice chuckled, hanging her head at his quick reply. He was one clever bastard. They reached the lobby and headed for the exit only to be met by a small contingent of Suits. A cold wave of de ja vu washed over the girl and Hatter stiffened beside her.

"Miss Hamilton?" the Ace in the lead asked. She nodded in confirmation. "We've been assigned to escort you through the city. We have a transport waiting outside to take you where ever you need to go."

She glanced to the man beside her, who shrugged his good arm. Jack must have put some kind of bug on her to be keeping so close a watch as he was. And yet, the man still had not come to speak to her himself. It spoke loads about his character, that. She might have been judging too harshly, still stung over his lies.

"I have Guinevere," she began, but the man lifted a hand to stop her.

"We'll take care of the horse," he assured her.

"Good care of her. She belongs to a friend," Alice told him firmly. He nodded.

"Of course. This way." The Ace led the pair to the waiting transport and in minutes they were stepping out in front of Hatter's ransacked Tea Shop. The two stood side by side at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the ruined door. Alice's stomach clenched as she took in the broken windows, just imagining what kind of damage had been done to the inside of the structure. Without a word, Hatter's hand found hers and she gripped it firmly in return. Their footfalls on the stairs were almost in unison as they made their way up onto the porch.

A splash of rusty brown caught her eye and the girl swallowed hard as a wash of cold rushed through her. A scream echoed in her mind so loud it might have been real. The man March had killed, that was his blood. Right there by her foot was the blood that had poured from the knife wound in his gut. Midnight shadows blossomed at the edges of her vision, creeping their way across her view. Her breath was coming in short little pants, not enough to bring her brain the oxygen it needed. Over and over she saw the knife, glinting in her mind as it hadn't in reality - not with the sickly light that filtered into the city.

"Look at me," came a soft command inches from her ear. Her gaze obediently skittered away from the deathly maroon stain, finding a pair of deep chocolate eyes instead. The shadows dissipated like mist under the morning sun. Once he had her attention, Hatter gave her hand a very gentle tug. "Come on."

She nodded and they headed inside. Still, nothing could be said to ease her horror and anguish over the death of that poor, innocent man. Still, her friend did not try to fix it, knowing it could not be mended. His being there with her, emotionally more than physically, was enough to make it bearable. The girl shuddered to think of how things would have turned out if Ratty had not led her to this man. Without Hatter, Alice would have been just another oyster crushed by Wonderland.

Now, she was reminded of all he had sacrificed, all she had taken from him. The main room of the Tea Shop was a shambles. Only a few of the lighted shelves still produced illumination, one of them flickering weakly. The chalk board with all the teas and values on it was pulled from the wall and Dormie's podium had been knocked over along with many of the tables and chairs. Glass littered the floor, shining up at them as they passed and the poor light flicked across the smooth surface of the shards. A few random bottles of color lay here and there on the ground and the few remaining shelves; hundreds more had been smashed out of spite.

Hatter led her through the shop the way the rat-catcher had just days before, down the corridor to his office. The guilt Alice was feeling increased threefold. Both glass desks were overturned, one of them shattered. The white furniture was scattered, some of it laying on its back or side. A few of the chairs' upholstery had been slashed and stuffing spilled out onto the grass - what was left of the grass where it had not been trampled or turned a withered brown. The tea that had lined Hatter's shelving in here had been deliberately poured onto his lawn - apparently, killing it - the empty bottles lay unbroken on the dead grass. The wardrobe stood open, all the clothing inside strewn about the office. Several of the hats had been stomped on, the rest thrown carelessly aside.

The little oyster took all this in, her empty stomach twisting sickly. "Oh, Hatter," she breathed. "I'm s-"

"I wonder if Prince Jack will pay for a remodel," he cut her off, his voice sounding too unperturbed for her to accept. Sea-gray eyes turned towards him to find the man looking about the room with thoughtful detachment. How could be he so blasé about it all? His livelihood had been all but demolished, his things ransacked.

"Hatter," she began again, but he turned to her with softly pink lips turned up in a rueful little smile.

"They're only things, Alice," he reminded her gently, then chuckled. "Nice things, granted, but still. Nothing I can't replace. Everything important is safe and sound."

A warmth in his gaze gave her the idea he wasn't talking about his favorite hat or a family heirloom. Her breath hitched just slightly and his eyes flicked down to her parted lips, bringing a soft flush to her cheeks.

"AAAAAAAAEEEEEEE!!!" The two jerked apart as a very small attacker rushed from behind the tipped-over couch, wielding a metal pipe.

"Whoa!" Hatter released her hand and stepped aside as the tiny marauder rushed them, catching the pipe and bringing the little terror to a halt. "Oi, Dormie, calm down! It's me!"

"I don't care who- Hatter?" The little man's eyes popped open and he gawked at his friend, hands still raised over his head holding the pipe.

"Yes," Hatter confirmed with a very amused smile. "Now, would you kindly stop trying to kill me?"

"Hatter!" Dormie cried joyously, releasing the pipe to throw his arms around the other man's torso. Hatter grunted, dropping the weapon, face pinching in anguish as his tiny pal squeezed him as tight as his little arms would allow. Alice stepped in, carefully pulling the smaller man off his injured friend.

"I said _stop_ trying to kill me," Hatter panted, hugging his now aching ribs.

"Sorry!" Dormie peeped quickly. "I'm just so happy to see you. There's so many rumors going around about the Battle of the Casino. I was afraid you were dead, Hatter."

Nodding, the dark-eyed man lifted his good hand, patting his friend on the shoulder. "It's okay, Dormie," he assured him, a little breathless from the pain.

"Dormie, help me for a second," Alice said, steering the little man towards the closest chair. It was the big wingback. Ignoring the screaming of her own ribs, she and Dormie righted the piece of furniture. She guided her friend into the seat and he let out a soft breath of relief. Before he could stop her, she moved away, gingerly picking up his scattered clothing. Dormie followed suit, looking a little dazed by it all.

"Alice, you don't have to do that," Hatter protested from his chair. The tiny man stopped dead.

"This is Alice?" he squeaked, eyes rounding like saucers. It was only then that the girl realized that, while she had seen Dormie before and knew who he was, the small man had no idea who she had been until that moment.

"Don't say it," she told him quickly, adding a softer, "Please. It's Alice. Just Alice, really."

Honestly, at this point, she wasn't sure why she bothered to try and convince people. No one listened to her and it would just have been easier to let them think what they wanted. Except that it made her uncomfortable. Except that it wasn't true. The mousy man just stared at her, speechless, a pair of Hatter's undershorts hanging from one hand. Shaking her head with an exasperated huff, Alice went back to her task.

"Dormie," Hatter called, retaking his friend's attention. "What's goin' on with the Resistance?"

As the effeminate little guy told Hatter what he wanted to know, she sorted through his clothes. Many of the shirts had been torn, but most of the rest - pants, coats, etc. - were only dirty or wrinkled. Choosing a dark green and black number, done in a sort of paisley pattern, Alice handed it to the smaller man.

"You need to change out of that shirt," she reminded Hatter, carefully helping him to stand. Leaving Dormie to aid him in removing the soiled crimson and donning the relatively clean jade, she turned back to the clothes she had been sorting through. It was a little childish, maybe, but she was willing to live with that, thinking it would have been a bit uncomfortable for all parties involved. Plus, she didn't want Dormie getting the wrong idea about her and Hatter.

The wrong idea? She didn't even know what the idea was to begin with. She admired the man, that she knew. Leaned on him far too much to be fair and was amazed that he not only allowed her to, but seemed to welcome it. Tempering his selflessness and heroism was that bizarre sense of playfulness. Hatter, she'd found, was downright sweet at times - often when he should have been serious instead. Though sweet was not really the word she'd have used to describe that moment by the fire, when he'd leaned in and she'd been so sure he was going to kiss her. Jack had put an end to that.

Jack. Her mind backed off the whole Hatter subject then. Her relationship with Jack was her romantic concern first and foremost. He said he loved her and she believed him. Didn't she? He had lied so many times, but he wouldn't have lied about that.

Clothes sorted and Hatter safely deposited back in his chair, Alice and Dormie focused on righting the room as much as possible. She did her best to ignore the wide-eyed looks the small man kept giving her. It wasn't hard since most of her focus was on ignoring the pain in her ribs and ankle as she hobbled about the room and lifted things she had no business lifting. If Hatter had known about her other injuries, he'd never have allowed her to lift a finger. Not that he didn't spend all the time she worked protesting that she didn't need to.

But she did need to. Needed to do something _for him _for a change. It wasn't easy, though and she was running out of steam fast. Even the little man was asking her if she wanted to take a rest, she was yawning so often. By the time she and Dormie finally managed to set Hatter's remaining desk to rights, her hands were shaking with fatigue. Hatter had had enough. More than enough, apparently, as he struggled up out of the chair and caught her arm in his good hand.

"Alright. No more, Alice," he said firmly. Turning to his friend and partner, he asked, "I don't suppose you'd run out and get us some lunch?"

"You betcha." The smaller man nodded eagerly and darted for the door.

"Dormie!" Hatter called after, bringing him up short. "There's a bunch of Suits out front. The Prince has them following me about." One side of his mouth curved upwards mischievously. "Ask them to pay."

Alice shook her head with a tired smile of her own as the tiny man scurried out of the room. Hatter chuckled and turned his attention back to the girl. "Come on. You need a lie down."

Instead of protesting, she let him lead her to the white couch and sat down on it. "Maybe just for a couple minutes."

"How much sleep did you get last night?" She shrugged noncommittally, drawing a knowing smirk from her friend. "That's what I thought. Go on, then."

"What about you?" the tired little oyster asked, laying back against the cushion.

"I've got some papers to go through," he said, reaching for the only slightly torn white throw she had redraped over the back of the couch. "I also wasn't running all over Wonderland last night when I should have been resting."

His gently admonishing tone made her smile. "Wasn't _all_ over Wonderland."

He clicked his tongue down at her cheeky response, shaking his head, and spread the blanket over her with his good hand. Carefully crouching beside the sofa he gazed at her with a soft warmth than made her fingertips tingle. His left hand lifted, brushing his fingers against her forehead lightly as she had done for him in the hospital. Returning the favor, her own fingers trailed along his jaw, enjoying the rasp of his stubble against her skin. Slowly, Hatter leaned in and Alice closed her eyes against the onslaught of butterflies that erupted in her stomach. His lips touched her, but not on her own. His kiss was a light brush against her cheek that left her feeling disappointed, but filled with sweet warmth.

"Rest now," he whispered, drawing back. With his fingertips still lightly stroking her forehead and hair, the girl had little choice in the matter. Her eyes fluttered shut and the last thing she thought as she drifted off was how nice it was to be surrounded by all things Hatter.

* * *

**Don't kill me for putting in another near miss. -hides-**


	23. Nothing is Ever Simple

**We knew it had to happen eventually. Alice and Jack have _the talk_. Enjoy.**

* * *

Alice awoke several hours later to a gentle shaking of her shoulder. She winced against the tired stretch that made her ribs protest sharply and opened her eyes expecting to see deep chocolate and instead finding murky jade. She sat up too quickly, gasping in pain, her eyes darting around until they fell on the familiar form of Hatter standing off beside his desk. His face, for the first time since she'd met him, was an unreadable mask. The girl didn't like that, but with the Prince of Hearts standing there before her, there was little she could do about it.

"Jack," she started, but couldn't finish the sentence. What would she say? What are you doing here? She could guess. What took you so long? She already knew. He offered a hand to help Alice to her feet, but she declined it, struggling up under her own power. Hatter's leg twitched, looking like he wanted to take a step towards her, but did not.

"Alice, I need to speak with you," Jack said the words she had been waiting a full day to hear.

"I'll just…" Her dark haired friend nodded towards the door and made to leave the room, but she held up a hand.

"No, don't." This was Hatter's place. Not only did they have no right to impose like that, but the girl certainly did not want to have a serious relationship discussion with Jack here, surrounded by Hatter with the man himself barely out of earshot. "We'll go."

Hatter stopped, nodding, his face seeming even more closed off; if that was possible. Jack politely motioned Alice ahead of him and she moved towards the hallway. Turning back just once before walking out of his office, she looked to her friend, promising, "I'll see you later."

He lifted a hand in parting, but his facial expression never shifted. As Alice made her way out of the building, the silent prince at her side, a knot was forming in her stomach. Each step tightened the knot, anticipating the conversation to come.

"Where are we going?" she asked her lover. Jack looked down at her.

"The Diamond Palace is not far from the city."

"Is that where all the other oysters are?"

He nodded. "Yes. And your father." Alice nodded back. The trip to the palace was silent and she barely looked at the towering structure, though it must have been quite grand to have housed the Queen of Hearts. The girl vaguely noticed sparkling ramparts and sumptuous decorations in the ubiquitous crimson favored by the deposed ruler. She spent the time working out in her head exactly what she would say to the man who had both loved and betrayed her, every word carefully chosen and ready at her lips. When he finally closed the door behind them and they were alone, Alice turned to Jack and met his troubled emerald gaze and found the words had deserted her.

"Alice," he began softly, moving to stand before her and taking her hands in his own. "I love you."

Instead of keeping her gaze on his, her eyes fell to his hands curved around hers. He loved her. The declaration once would have sent a great thrill of pleasure and excitement through her, but now only carried frustration and sorrow and disappointment.

"You lied to me," was her response. He let out a breath which told her he had expected and feared that answer.

"I know, I did. I'm sorry. There was no other way."

The girl scoffed and drew her hands away from his, stepping back and glaring up at him incredulously. "There was no other way? Seducing me and making me feel something for you when none of it was real was the _only_ way?"

"I shouldn't have…" he trailed off shaking his head, looking guilty as Hell. Good. He ran a hand through his perfectly slicked back hair, mussing it uncaringly in a move what was so like her Jack it hurt. "I never should have let it go that far, but being with you… It was so wonderful, so perfect. I didn't want it to end. I put my mission in jeopardy for more time with you."

"And that's my fault?" she demanded in angry disbelief. Jack shook his head, holding out his hands imploringly.

"No, it's not. None of it was your fault. I was selfish and stupid," he insisted, green eyes almost crystalline with sorrowful pleading. "I knew the longer I let it go, the more you'd hate me for it, but I couldn't help myself. You're such an amazing woman. I just wanted one more day to look at you, to hold you, for you to be mine."

Alice sighed, rubbing her fingers against her forehead. "I don't hate you, Jack. I really want to. I'm hurt and angry and I feel so stupid."

"Don't-"

"Don't tell me what to feel," she snapped when he tried to interrupt. The blonde nodded contritely, his bangs falling over his forehead and almost into his eyes. She could so easily see the man she'd cared for now, under the bleached hair and perfect suit. Her Jack. But he was just one facet of a much larger gem, one she knew nothing about.

"I don't feel stupid because you fooled me, because you didn't really, did you?" she went on. "You really do love me. You're just not who I thought you were. You're a good man, Jack Heart, but I don't think we were ever meant to be. I'm not the girl you thought I was either."

The little oyster laughed softly, sadly, wiping away the tears that spilled over her lashes. "Hell, I'm not even the girl _I_ thought I was." It was true. Alice had never thought herself particularly strong or brave or selfless, but she'd been proven wrong on all fronts and it still surprised her. Even forgiving Jack was something the girl would never have believed herself capable of doing.

"You're wrong," the prince insisted, closing the space between them and taking her face in his hands. "You're exactly the woman I thought you were; the woman I fell in love with. Alice, please…" He released her, reaching into his pocket, and pulled out something small that shone in the light of the room - the Stone of Wonderland. "I tried to give this to you once before, but you didn't know what it meant."

Her heart ached as he sank down to one knee, taking hold of her hands again. "I'm asking you to wear it again. Marry me, Alice. I love you more than anything. Please, stay with me and be my wife."

Alice took Jack's face in her hands now, bending to press her forehead against his, breath hitching with gentle sobs as more tears fell from stormy eyes. "I'm sorry, Jack. I can't."

His eyes slipped shut in sharp pain, his arms coming around her waist. She let him hold her, held him in return, pressing sad kisses to his hair. It hurt so bad, but it felt right and that was the important thing, wasn't it?

Some time later, Jack had excused himself and left her alone. She didn't blame him, she knew what it was like to have your heart crushed along with all your hopes for the future, had experienced it more than just the one time with him. It would have been easier to hate the prince, but she couldn't summon up the vitriol. Being entirely honest with herself, Alice did not think their relationship would have lasted if he really had been Jack Chase. He was everything she told herself she wanted, but she had been wrong and not known it. Or maybe she had known it and was lying to herself just as much as he was lying to her. None of it mattered now. He was King of Wonderland and she was just an oyster who had to go home. At least she wasn't leaving empty handed.

As though the thought had summoned him, her father entered the room. "The Prince said you would be in here."

Alice stood from the chaise lounge she had been sitting on and smiled at the older man. "Yeah. How are the other oysters?"

"Good. They're removing everyone's mark now. I thought you'd like to come down and have yours taken off."

The girl looked down at her arm, tracing the green seaweed that now adorned her skin. The mark of an oyster, an outsider who fell into Wonderland. "I thought I might keep it. You know, to remember."

Hamilton nodded. Somehow, she knew he'd understand. "How long until we go back?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"That soon?" Why her stomach shifted uneasily, the girl didn't know. Shouldn't she be happy to be getting home as soon as possible? Of course. That didn't mean she couldn't miss Wonderland, did it? Her father nodded again. The girl turned her thoughts to more pleasantly certain matters. "How are we going to explain you to Mom?"

Her lips had curved into an eager smile, but the way her father's eyes had slid away from her own, pulled them back down. "What is it? She's going to be happy to see you," she assured him, thinking he was worried about Carol's reaction after so many years separated.

"Alice, come sit down." His soft tone and the fact that he still wasn't looking at her worried the girl, but she did as he asked, sitting beside him on the lounge. When his eyes finally found hers again, the slight worry bloomed into a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I'm not going back with you."

She blinked at him several times silently, waiting for him to take it back or tell her she must have misheard him. "What?"

"I can't go back," he said again, but her mind still wouldn't accept it as true.

"What do you mean you're not going back? You _have_ to go back!" she insisted, gripping his hands tightly as though he would try to slip away from her again as he did so many years ago.

"I have to stay here. I have to make amends," he tried to explain, but she wouldn't hear it.

"No, you don't! You were kidnapped. You don't belong here, Daddy." He just felt guilty; of course he did. He'd done terrible things, but it wasn't his fault. He'd been under the Queen's control.

"I have to tell you something, Jellybean," he said. Her father's too somber tone snapped her mouth shut like a clam, even though she knew with full certainty that she did not want to hear whatever it was he was about to tell her. "My name isn't Robert Hamilton."

"But-"

"Just listen," he plead softly. _But I don't want to listen. I just want you to shut up and come home and make everything right again._ "My name is Nestor Carpenter and I was born in Wonderland."

"No," she whispered. One more horrible shock this place had brought down on her. Too much. Her hands went cold like she'd dunked them in a bucket of ice water.

"I'm sorry. I worked for the Queen of Hearts for many years before Caterpillar and the Resistance kidnapped me and forced me through the Looking Glass. They locked up my memories and gave me a new identity. I thought I _was_ Robert Hamilton of New York City. I met Carol and fell in love. We were married and had you. I was happy. But the Queen never stopped looking for me and when she found me, I was torn away from you and your mother and brought back here."

"You mean you knew the whole time?" Carpenter shook his head, lifting her hands to kiss her knuckles.

"No, I swear. I didn't want to go back, even when I remembered who I was. I fought the Suits to stay with my family, but I couldn't break free. The Queen tampered with my memories again and I forgot everything about my time on the other side." His eyes shimmered with sorrow and guilt and for the second time that day, Alice found her cheeks wet with tears. "I should have been stronger, I should have been able to fight it. I let you down, Alice. I'm sorry."

The girl shook her head, pulling her hands free of his grasp and wrapping her arms around him. "It's not your fault, Daddy," she insisted against his shoulder. "She did this to us. I don't blame you."

He was careful not to squeeze her injured ribs, but his hand stroked her back comfortingly, making her tears dry up, but her heart ache with bitter sweetness. "I have to stay to set things right. I have to try to make up for everything I've done."

She leaned back to look at him, pleading with gaze and voice, "What about me? What about Mom? Don't we matter?"

"Of course you do, Jellybean," he rushed to assure her, cupping her cheek in one soft hand with calloused fingertips. "It won't be forever. I just can't go now. I promise, I'll come home to you. We'll tell your mother the truth about everything. But right now, I have to stay."

The girl nodded, sniffling unhappily. More waiting. She'd waited almost fourteen years to have her father back and now he was asking her to go home alone and wait some more. It was cruel and too great a request. She would grant it. What choice was there? He had to do what was right for him, just as she had to do what was right for her. It wasn't fair, but when had that ever stopped the fates from setting down a decree?

"How long?"

"A couple months," he said with a shrug. "I have to tell Caterpillar's people all that I know. I can't promise I won't be called back to Wonderland at some point, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

She nodded again, returning her head to its place on her father's shoulder, letting him rub her back like a father ought. After a few minutes of comforting silence, a thought came to Alice and she voiced it aloud.

"So, that means I'm half Wonderlander?"

Nestor Carpenter/Robert Hamilton chuckled gently. "No. You're not half anything, honey. There is no difference between a Wonderlander and a New Yorker. We're all just human."

"But Turtle said-"

"The Queen has put a lot of time and effort into propagandizing the term 'oyster' to convince people there is a difference; that people from the other side of the Looking Glass aren't like us," her father explained.

"Why?"

"So no one would protest when she had them kidnapped and brought here to drain."

"If we're all the same, why go through the trouble of kidnapping oysters at all?"

She could feel the man shake his head. He sighed before answering. "So no one would think twice about drinking down the emotion tea. She uses- used it like doctors use drugs in an asylum to keep the populace in check. Do you think the people would have succumbed to it so easily had they known the precious emotion they were taking might have come from someone they knew? Could one day be their own being used by someone else?"

Alice shivered at the thought, because it hit home. When she had thought the man holding her now had been one of those being drained it had sickened her. Little drops of her father put into bottles and sold to Wonderlanders. It had horrified her. There was no way the people of the realm would have fallen so easily in line had they known the truth.

"But there has to be a difference," she insisted softly, mind whirling. "Charlie is over two hundred years old and the Queen is even older than that!"

Her father paused before answering, combing his fingers through her hair. "I don't know about your friend the White Knight. Perhaps Wonderland just wasn't ready to let him go. The only difference between those on this side and those on the other side of the Glass is Wonderland, itself. This place is what separates us.

"The Queen, on the other hand; I know how she prolonged her life," he said. She could hear the heavy distaste in the words and knew this explanation would be more horrible than the last. "Stealing emotions is relatively easy to do and doesn't harm the donor at all. People put out so many feelings at a given time, you could catch them with a butterfly net. The reason she always needed to bring in fresh oysters was because the Queen was stealing more than their feelings, she was stealing their lives."

Alice squeezed her eyes shut against that statement. That would be what Owl's brother Robin had found when he'd infiltrated the casino labs. The Queen was draining life from the oysters to prolong her own existence. She wondered if that was what the Cheshire Cat had meant when he said the ring did more than power the Looking Glass. The girl was disgusted and felt sullied. She wanted to wash away the knowledge her father had just imparted. Not that a shower was a bad idea anyway. Once the thought was in her head, she couldn't get it out; her skin fairly crawled with the need to be clean.

Carpenter, who was really Hamilton, who was really Carpenter obliged, leading her to a suite of rooms Jack had set aside for her even before she had left the hospital that night. The bathroom was massive, like her own private spa with a tub big enough to swim in if she went in circles. The shower had four - yes, four - wonderful showerheads and managed to hit each and every achy spot on her body at once.

As she let the near scalding water sluice over her skin, Alice couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt. Hatter certainly had nothing like this back at the Tea Shop - where the girl was fairly convinced he lived in that office. As grand as the palace was and as soft as the massive bed in the other room in her suite would be, she couldn't think of any place she'd rather be than curled up on Hatter's white couch, listening to him try to type quietly on his typewriter with his one good hand.

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**Anybody see that tweest coming? Hope you liked it. Sorry it's a short chapter. More to come, soon.**


	24. Last Call

**Thanks for all the great reviews guys, I'm glad you liked what I did with Carpenter. I'm feeling much better than I was, thanks again for all the concern :) Though I know it was all for the chapters and not so much me. ;-) Enjoy!**

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When Alice stepped out of the shower she felt like a new woman. Yes, the doctor had told her not to get her stitches wet, but she didn't really care. Her ankle and ribs still ached, but the pounding heat of the water had done her a world of good. She felt lighter, too, after her heart to heart with Jack; as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Alice didn't think she had ever felt so _herself_ before. The shadowed questions that had plagued the girl all her life, like a splinter festering beneath her skin, had finally been answered, drawn into the light and burned away to ash - opening a whole new world to her.

And tomorrow she would go home. She would step through the Looking Glass and leave Wonderland behind her. Trying to retrace the steps she had taken beside Jack was easier than she expected, given she had not been paying attention at all as he led her through the palace. She made her way outside again soon enough, finding, as expected, a set of Suits waiting to escort her wherever she may need to go. There were only a handful of places she knew in the city and only one that mattered.

The sun was starting to set when she stepped back into the ruined Tea Shop, the way to Hatter's office as familiar to her now as the path to her own kitchen. He was seated at his desk, clicking away at the typewriter when she entered. She sat herself down on his couch without preamble and waited for him to finish whatever it was he was working on. Her stomach grumbled at her when she smelled whatever it was that Dormie had gone to get for lunch, but there was no food to be seen. She must have slept through the meal. That was no surprise, but she would have thought her friend would have saved her something at least.

"You're back." The words sounded oddly questioning, not pleased as they had been the last time he'd spoken them, back in the hospital that morning.

"Yeah." Alice felt she should say more, but what else was there? Hatter didn't even turn around, but continued tapping the keys with slow precision. After a few moments sitting in a silence that was suddenly, unfamiliarly uncomfortable, the girl got to her feet again, limping around the room in curiosity. The wardrobe stood open, half of the clothes hung neatly inside, the rest piled on the floor beside it, too damaged to be salvaged. Absently, she browsed through the offerings, finding no two pieces precisely alike and every one shouting Hatter. And the hats, oh, the hats! Many of them were just fine, save two or three that had been brutally stomped. She chuckled, picking a white top hat and plopping it down on top of her own dark brown locks.

"Alice," Hatter sighed from the desk, drawing her attention. "Did you need something?"

"I…" _I just wanted to be here with you._ "No."

"I'm a bit busy," he told her apologetically. It felt like a dismissal, like he was asking her to leave. No, it didn't _feel_ that way, it _was_ that way.

"Oh," she said quickly, putting the hat back on its hook on the stand. Heat rose from her shoulders to her cheeks. Of course, he had a lot to do. Stupid. "I'm sorry. Right, you've got loads to.. I'll get out of your hair."

"No, Alice." He stood and that was when she noticed he had changed his pants and now wore black slacks. His feet were bare and she suddenly really wanted to be able to curl her bare toes in what was left of the cool, green grass of his lawn. "I'm sorry. I guess it's just the adrenaline hangover."

She nodded, accepting that explanation easily because it was the easiest thing to do. There was a crumpled up bit of paper on the ground near his foot and another not far from that. This semi-trail brought her eyes to the garbage can and, indeed, there were several take out containers that looked just like the ones from her own world shoved inside.

"Guess I missed out on lunch," she said lightly, nodding towards the trash. Hatter glanced there as well, as though he hadn't known the bin existed before she mentioned it. His shoulders tensed.

"Yeah, sorry. I thought you'd be eating at the palace," he explained.

"No. Jack and I talked. I didn't even think to ask for something to eat," she shrugged. Not wanting to get into another discussion on her and Jack with Hatter, she added, "I spoke to my father, too."

"Your hair is wet." The statement came so far out of left field it took a moment for her to catch it and she wondered if he had even been listening to her. She remembered the last time she had stood in this office with wet hair. It seemed a lifetime ago.

"I took a shower. I don't know if you noticed, but I was a bit of a mess," she offered him a little teasing grin.

"You don't say?" He returned her smile, flashing pearly white teeth at her.

"Did you know my father was from Wonderland, Hatter?" The question was out of her mouth before she had fully realized the thought. The man's smile faltered and he swallowed before answering.

"Yes," he admitted. "Not at first, but once I saw him in the casino, I knew. I would have told you, Alice, really, but it didn't seem like the best time. And then he asked me not to. It wasn't my place, anyway."

"Thank you." He opened his mouth, ready to defend himself and/or apologize further, but stopped and blinked, a slightly incredulous curve lifting his lips.

"Thank you? For keeping something from you?"

Alice shook her head. "For letting him tell me. You're a good friend."

"That depends on who you ask," he chuckled, shadows chasing their way across his chocolate eyes.

"Anyone who says otherwise is wrong," she stated firmly. Her voice didn't soften as she spoke the next, but there was a deeper warmth to it. "You're my hero, Hatter. I never would have made it through without you."

"That's not any way true," he disagreed, lips twitching just a little. "All I did was take a few punches."

"And a bullet. And an indestructible blade that can slice through anything."

"So, I'm more resilient than most." His cavalier attitude about himself made the girl want to hug him and shake him at the same time. If saving the whole of Wonderland wasn't enough to get it through the man's head that he was something special, what the Hell could?

"I'm leaving in the morning." The words hung heavy in the air, freezing Hatter's expression unnaturally on his features. Neither of the two said anything for several heartbeats.

"Tomorrow morning?" The man finally asked softly.

"Yes. I guess a lot of the oysters are ready to go back." She shrugged. "They're all having their marks taken off now."

"Yours, too," he nodded, but she shook her head.

"I'm keeping mine."

Hatter's expression finally shifted, becoming one of quiet perplexity. "Why?"

"To remember," Alice told him. "I've been through so much here in Wonderland, learned so much about myself. I don't ever want to forget that."

He shook his head now, one corner of his mouth quirking upward smartly. "You'd never forget."

The girl wasn't so sure of herself as he was apparently. Her own lips curved into a mischievous little smirk. "Maybe I just kinda like it."

Hatter laughed, rolling his eyes at her statement. "I bet your mum will be just tickled pink when she sees it, too."

"I'll just wear long sleeves for the rest of my life." He laughed again and she never thought she'd get tired of that sound. But she wouldn't be hearing it again, would she? The realization that when she left Wonderland behind meant leaving Hatter behind as well hit her like a brick wall. His brows furrowed in concern and Alice knew her emotion was written all over her face. "You will come tomorrow, right, Hatter?"

"I thought you trusted me," he chided gently.

"I do, but you never said-"

"I'll be there. Just try and hold me back," he smirked, stepping towards her and curving his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him just slightly, worried she would hurt his injured ribs or jostle his fractured arm.

"I'm going to m-"

"Hey, now," he pulled back, shaking his head down at her with a look of playful admonishment. "Save the goodbyes, eh? Didn't even give me a chance to plan mine out, yet."

Alice opened her mouth to snark back at him when a tiny whirlwind came bustling into the room. Dormie, in his too large coat that had to weight as much as he did, drew to a halt, panting heavily. Hatter turned to face his little friend, his arm still resting lightly across the girl's shoulders.

"Hatter…. Hatter…. Ha…tter…" the mousy man hyperventilated causing the taller man to sigh.

"Just breathe, Dormie," he instructed with weary affection. "In and out, yeah?"

The smaller fellow nodded, drawing a few deep breaths and letting each out with a whoosh. "Hatter."

"Yes, Dormie?"

"Turtle wants to talk to you. Right away." The little guy's eyes were huge, his eyebrows threatening to disappear under his hair line they'd risen so far up his forehead.

"Turtle?" Hatter asked, sounding as though he wasn't sure he'd heard the other man correctly. Dormie nodded so fast Alice thought his head might bob clean off. "Turtle wants to talk to _me_?"

"Yes!"

"About what?" His disbelief had given way to suspicion and with what had transpired the last time he'd dealt with the Resistance, the little oyster wasn't surprised. His friend and partner shook his head.

"Something about Dodo," Dormie told him, blinking owlishly. Alice felt Hatter tense up and laid a reassuring hand on the small of his back, warm under the smooth silk of his shirt.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," she told him softly, trying not to smile. She wasn't sure how he would feel about the whole situation. Obviously happy that he was no longer a target for the Resistance, but as she didn't know what Dodo's punishment had been, she couldn't judge how Hatter might react to it. His chocolate eyes found hers, dark brows lifted slightly in question.

"Caterpillar told me the Resistance was on your side on the matter," she told him, not expounding any more than that as she didn't know the full story.

"Caterpillar said that?" Brows climbing higher on his own brow in surprise. Now, she did smile.

"Yeah."

"Did you have something to do with that, then?"

"Nope." The girl lightly scritched her nails against his back. "It's one hundred percent Alice free. Promise."

His eyes fluttered slightly and if she didn't know better, Alice would have thought he squirmed just a bit. "Great griffins, do that again," he breathed. Head tilted to the side curiously over his reaction, she did as he asked, lightly scraping her nails against him. Hatter's eyes fell shut this time and there was no doubt he was squirming. "I've had an itch back there that's been driving me crazy since we left the hospital. Ooh, a little higher."

The little oyster couldn't help but giggle over his antics. It couldn't be good for his ribs to be curving his spine so, but he was enjoying himself so much, she hadn't the heart to stop.

"Hatter."

"Unh?" He didn't open his eyes, face screwed up a little as he sought relief over the tickle that had plagued him for hours. Poor man.

"_Hatter_."

"Yes, what, Dormie?" he snapped, cracking one eye but not ceasing his quest for reprieve.

"We have to go," the smaller man said, frowning impatiently.

"In a mo- oooh… That's the spot," he groaned dramatically drawing a laugh from the girl doing the scratching.

"Better now?" Alice asked as the man let out a huge, blissful sigh.

"Much." He grinned widely at her. "What would I do without you?"

"Be itchy, I suppose," she shrugged. What _would_ he do without her? After tomorrow morning, she supposed he would find out. Probably go back to his life, free of all the complications and threats to his wellbeing she brought along with her.

"Hatter!"

"_Yes_! Dormie, I _know_." He started for the door, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders, but Alice stopped him as gently as she could, slipping his arm from around her shoulders and stepping back.

"I think this is a private Hatter/Resistance type meeting," she said. It wasn't that the girl didn't want to go and witness his big moment where the Resistance leaders acknowledged all he had done for Wonderland, but it would be an intrusion. The last thing she would allow was for all the Alice of Legend garbage to overshadow the man's accomplishments. Hatter deserved his moment in the sun without her big, stupid cloud getting in the way.

He opened his mouth, about to protest - she could tell - but closed it again. The man nodded, but Alice could see he wasn't happy about it.

"I'll just go back to the palace and try to find something to eat." She chuckled ruefully, trying to bring some lightness back into his gaze. "I don't suppose they have borogove as good as Charlie's, though."

"Doubtful," he agreed.

"I guess… I guess, I'll see you tomorrow, then." It would be dark by the time she got back to the palace and he really needed his rest. Again, Hatter nodded silently. He shifted forward, just slightly, one knee bending as though he might take a step. Instead, he rocked back into place and clicked between his teeth.

"Come on, Dormie. Help me get my boots back on," he told his little comrade, turning and heading for the couch Alice had been sleeping on not long before. The little oyster took that as her cue to leave, lifting a hand in a pathetic little wave as she went passed the two friends.

Just before she was completely out of earshot, she heard Dormie ask, "What happened to all the food?" only to be hushed by the other. She guessed Hatter had not given the smaller man the chance to snag any leftovers before throwing out the containers of take-out.

Outside, her own personal guard was waiting with patient professionalism by the transport. Alice turned and took one last, long look at the Tea Shop and lamented heavily the fact that cameras did not exist in Wonderland.

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Alice couldn't sleep. She really wanted to, but the nervous excitement about the next morning kept her mind running in third gear while the rest of her poor body craved rest. She didn't remember much about her first trip through the Looking Glass, only that it had been terrifying. She wasn't sure it would have the same effect the second go 'round, as her definition of what was terrifying had skewed some during her time in Wonderland.

Laying in the big, luxurious bed - which was just as soft as she'd expected it to be - Alice stared up at the gilded ceiling. Gold and ivory; it reminded her vaguely of Cinderella's carriage, of the décor in the Great Library. Guiltily, the girl wondered how Hatter was sleeping. Was he sacked out on that couch? She hoped not. As comfortable as the piece of furniture was, she would have preferred him in a proper bed. Maybe he had one tucked away somewhere in that office of his. She could only hope. That wasn't exactly true; the oyster _could_ have insisted he come back to the palace with her. Okay, perhaps Hatter and Jack under one roof, even one so large as this, wasn't a great idea, but, dammit, the man deserved more consideration than they were giving him.

Alice had tossed back her covers and was standing at the window before she had worked out the fact that she didn't know why she had gotten up at all, looking out over the grounds. The moon cast a faintly greenish luster on the massive rose garden that surrounded the palace. _Painting the roses green._ The little oyster was not thrown by the verdant moon; she barely noticed something was amiss with the hue. How was it possible for one to get used to Wonderland? A flash of white glinted at her from far below, out of place in the celadon landscape. As her eyes tried to find the source of the glimmer, a sinewy curve of deep plum slid passed her vision. Cat.

Sneaking around a heavily guarded fortress was becoming old hat for the girl by this point and she easily made her way out into the gardens unnoticed. Hatter's previously mentioned concern that there were still plenty of people running about in Wonderland who supported the Queen of Hearts rang in her ears, but she went unprotected into the night anyway.

"And what _would_ you do if I were an errant knave, Miss Alice?"

If she had not been expecting to hear the deep, smooth voice, Alice might have jumped when the Cat spoke from so close beside her; the words seemed to come straight from a heavily scented rose bush just feet away.

"The same thing I've been doing since I landed here: run," she replied, turning towards the voice.

"Not on that ankle," the Cat mocked. Or, more to fact, his _mouth_ did the mocking, for that was all there was of him at the moment. Presently his ears and tail joined the too numerous, too sharp teeth and were soon followed by cut glass, emerald green eyes.

As the Cheshire Cat sauntered towards her, the rest of his body fell in line. None of his fantastical coloring was affected by the moon's jade glow.

"Come to say goodbye?"

"To wish you well," he corrected absently. "Wonderland will miss you."

Alice tilted her head slightly at this statement. "Is that what you are?" She voiced the thought which had just now occurred to her. "The voice of Wonderland?"

"Wonderland makes itself understood quite well enough without my help," he chided in amusement. The girl shrugged.

"It was just a thought."

"A clever one, to be sure," the purple feline assented, adding with slightly narrowed eyes, "Though, even the most clever of thoughts are generally incorrect."

"Then, I don't feel bad." The girl found herself smiling. He was a giant, purple creature and talking to him was a lot like holding a conversation with Hannibal Lecter, but she found she quite liked the Cheshire Cat.

"You _should_ be feeling quite pleased with yourself," he intoned presently. "Alice of Legend."

Had anyone else called her that she would have corrected them or ignored it, but nothing this pussycat seemed to say was truly offhand. If he was calling her by that title, there was a reason for it.

"You said there was no Alice of Legend," she pointed out. Everything she recalled about the fictionalized Cat told her he might be shifty, crafty, evasive, but he never outright lied.

"I said no such thing," he responded, but offered nothing further. The oyster searched her memory, going over their previous conversation.

"You said a legend is a story people tell themselves to feel better."

"I did," he nodded, lifting a paw to lick. "I never said that meant it was untrue."

"But if the people made it up…?"

"Just because something is made up, doesn't make it a lie," he intoned with an almost condescending air. "Assuming something is one way fairly guarantees you find yourself mistaken. The Queen assumed a legend of her own invention could not truly exist and we have all seen how that turned out."

"What?" Alice stared at the cat, certain she must have missed some part of the conversation where what he just said made sense.

"Oh, yes. Mary Elizabeth Constance, etcetera, etcetera, created the Alice legend over a century ago," the cat pronounced. "It just wouldn't do for a simple oyster girl to have questioned the mighty Queen, would it? But a great legendary being, that was something the people could sink their-" He grinned impossibly wide and Alice thought the creature might be more teeth than anything else. "-teeth into."

"But I'm not some legendary being," the girl protested. She was just a random girl from New York, with normal issues and a _normal_ destiny.

"No?" Now, the byzantium-hued beast tilted his own head to the side. "Did you not overthrow the Queen of Hearts?"

She couldn't deny having had a part in it, but it wasn't like she was some kind of hero. "Not on my own!"

"Ah, but no one ever said the Alice of Legend had to act alone," he pointed out, switching his tail from side to side. "Perhaps you were not born as such, perhaps you were not reared as such, but in defeating the Queen and bringing freedom to the land of Avalon, you, my dear, little Alice, have become the Legend as surely as I am the Cheshire Cat."

"I don't know how to be a legend," she said, tears springing to her eyes. It was too big, too much to put on her. "I just want to go home."

"Do you really?" the Cat questioned. Not giving her a chance to answer, he stood, a little shiver running down his body like that of a normal house cat. "Of course, you do. And you will."

He padded silently over to her and rubbed against her leg, the bulk of him making her sway on her feet a little. Her fingers found their way into his soft, royal coat, the fur tickling her skin soothingly.

"Alice Hamilton will return home and life will go on as it always has," he assured her softly, setting her mind greatly at ease. "But do not forget to think on Wonderland, little oyster, for it will not forget you."

He walked beside her, running the length of his body against her leg like the world's largest kitten and was gone, leaving Alice Hamilton, now the Alice of Legend, alone in the rose garden of the Queen of Hearts herself. Wonderland would never forget. The thought was rather pleasant for a girl who had spent a good portion of her life feeling abandoned and forgotten. She would go home, back to her life and its happily mundane trials and tribulations, but somewhere the knowledge that she had once been a part of something truly meaningful would live on. That wasn't too bad at all.

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**I love writing the Cheshire Cat. He's such a neat character to have in my head. Hope you all liked this chapter as much as I did. We all know what the next one will be.**


	25. Goodbye, Not See You Later

**Okay, here's a short (sorry) but intense (hopefully) chapter. Alice says goodbye to Wonderland.**

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Alice hissed through her teeth as the nurse removed the bandage around her injured ankle, stealing away the support it had provided her sore joint. Her father's face twisted into a sympathetic grimace.

"Sorry, Jellybean. It'll be difficult enough going home to your mother injured like this, without having to explain why you're bandaged up, too," he offered apologetically. The girl shook her head.

"I know. At least that stuff they put on me healed up the cuts most of the way." She turned the hand which had held the shard of the Vorpal Blade palm side up. All that remained of the slices to her flesh were a couple thin lines where the scabs remained. The gash on her head was apparently too deep for the amazing salve to be affective. Without the gauze over it, her hair covered the wound, so she wouldn't have to explain that so much as keep it hidden. A bit of concealer, which was just like the kind in her make-up kit at home so far as she could tell, covered the green oyster mark.

Her injuries weren't her real concern, it was lying to her mom. Ethically speaking, not practically. Carol had never been particularly good at catching her daughter in a bold faced lie; it was only when the girl wasn't certain if she wanted to deceive her mother that the older woman could see something was amiss. Alice had never been sure how to feel about that.

"All set," the nurse announced, rolling up the bandage. Her patient stood from the chair she had been seated in and limped from the room. She didn't really need Carpenter's support, but accepted it when he offered, knowing it did him as much good to _be_ a caring father as it did her to _have_ one.

Under Hatter's lovely coat, she had changed from the knight's clothing that Charlie had given her, back into the dress she had worn that night a million years ago. Her feet were bare, as her sandals were resting somewhere at the bottom of the vast lake and, as far as she was concerned, they could stay there. She and Carpenter were in the building that housed the Looking Glass; actually, just down the hallway marked _Debriefing._ In the main hall where the Glass stood, the displaced oysters were milling about, a healthy buzz of conversation echoing gently off the marble floors and up into the high ceiling. The White Knight was waiting for her there, wearing his chain mail and looking anxious. When she entered the train station-like chamber, he smiled from ear to ear.

"My lady," he bowed grandly, something she never had quite gotten used to. The girl returned his smile with one of her own, despite the lump in her throat. Alice had never had a problem with goodbyes. When you expect everyone to leave you, they're inevitable. This was different. She had always planned to leave Wonderland; in fact, it was pretty much her main goal throughout her adventure, but now it was hitting home hard that this wasn't "see you later" or "until next time". This was _goodbye_.

"Sir Charles," she intoned, having to make an effort to keep her voice level. She released her father's arm and curtsied. Offering the elderly gentleman the paper-wrapped bundle she carried under one arm, the girl said, "I can't take this back with me. I'm sorry."

The knight nodded, accepting the clothes without protest. "I'm gonna miss you, Charlie," she admitted unexpectedly. The old paladin's jaw tightened, his bottom lip quivering suspiciously.

"I shall miss you, Alice of Legend," he responded in kind. She didn't correct him. Not because of what the Cheshire Cat had said the night before, but because he was Charlie. They shared a fond, sorrowful embrace and he stepped aside, shoulders back, chin high, proud like a valiant knight of the realm should be.

Her father took her hand once more and squeezed it gently. "Looks like this is about it, Jellybean," he said, eyes sparkling suspiciously. She sniffled and shook her head.

"No, it's not," Alice insisted, swallowing the tears that wanted to make their way to her eyes. "Not even close."

Her father would stay behind for now, but he would be coming after her. A couple months, that was what he had promised and that promise he would keep. There was no room for doubt in her mind. The man smiled gently and nodded.

"You're right," he agreed, laying a hand aside her cheek. "Take care of your mother for me until I get back?"

The girl's lips curved upwards and she nodded right back at him.

"Alice?" The voice speaking from behind her was unmistakable and she turned from her father to see the uncrowned King of Hearts. His eyes were deep pools of emerald emotion as he gazed at her. The prince drew a breath and when it hitched, she didn't hesitate to go to him and wrap her arms around his neck, letting him hug her close. His hold was gentle, careful of her sore ribs, but filled with warmth. "You're sure you won't change your mind?"

She knew what he was asking and knew she would not. He'd known, too, before he'd even asked. "No, Jack." He swallowed and let out a soft, sad breath. Tilting her face upwards, Alice pressed her lips to his gently. There was no flutter of dull panic in her stomach now. In her time in Wonderland, she had moved beyond that; she was free in herself. There were no butterflies, either, just a tender affection. His lips broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers. The man was no longer _her_ Jack, though he would always be more to her than only the Prince of Hearts.

"I love you, Alice."

"I love you," she whispered. It was true and she admitted it freely, knowing he would understand it wasn't _that_ kind of love.

"Will you do something for me?" the most powerful man in the whole of Wonderland asked softly, his eyes slipping shut for a moment.

"Yes," she told him without even thinking about it. Strange after all he had put her through, but they were passed that. Jack drew back from her, pulling her arms down from his shoulders and pressing something small into her palm.

"Be the one to restart the Looking Glass?" Taking one of his hands in her empty one, she gripped it tightly and nodded.

"What do I do?" The prince smiled, leading her to the massive contraption. The albino technician was there, still, standing beside the machine. He pressed a button on the small box which had held the ring on her last visit to this room and it opened, the bright light spilling out once more.

"Place it in there," he instructed. _I could have figured that out._ Alice stepped forward, slipping the ring into the little slot on the pad. The technician closed the box and the machine hummed to life once more. The mirror shimmered, rippling like a pond and in the glass, Alice saw a familiar figure. And it looked like he was leaving.

"Hatter!" she gasped out the name louder than she intended, spinning towards the doors. He was facing her when her eyes found him again, so perhaps it had been her mind playing tricks that made the little oyster think her friend was about to walk out without a word. The man was wearing the same emerald paisley shirt and black slacks as the day before, with the addition of black boots, a dark, dark brown Victorian-style coat, and black derby.

"Alice," he smiled, sounding pleasantly surprised. "Hey!" Gingerly making his way through the crowd - begging the pardon of a few oblivious oysters he may or may not have actually bumped into - he came to a stop just before her. "I was, um.. I was afraid I might've missed ya."

"Well, you are cutting it a little close," she pointed out lightly. Not that she was worried for a second that he would not come. Showing up at the last second seemed to be Hatter's mode of operation, if their experiences together over the last few days were true to his character.

His shoulders hunched contritely. "Yeah. I was," he paused, breaking eye contact as he searched for an excuse. Apparently, the man came up empty, because the next words out of his mouth were, "I guess I was trying not to think about it."

It was such bare honesty that Alice was not fast enough to react to the statement before he rushed on. "Anyways, I wanted to say 'goodbye'."

She blinked at him as he nodded once, satisfied with that. Her mind raced to process what the man had just said, skimming over the more complicated former and focusing on the simpler latter. "Goodbye?" Alice repeated with perplexed disbelief. "That's what took you all night to plan?"

Her tone was gently teasing, as the day before he had mentioned something about her not giving him time to come up with a proper farewell when she told him she was leaving. He hurried to add something else, to give himself more credibility.

"And… if you, you know, ever fancy coming back…" She shook her head with a smirk as he trailed off.

"You mean you don't want me to stay?" It was spoken as a joke, but her chest tightened as she said it. Where had that come from? Of course, she couldn't stay. She had to leave. Her mother, her _whole life _was waiting for her on the other side of the Looking Glass.

Hatter smiled, looking up as he exclaimed in a comically high pitched voice, "Hell no!" He chuckled, then added, in a more reasonable fashion. "No, you," he wrinkled his nose cutely. "I think you should go home."

The tightness worsened and no matter how she wanted to blame it on her ribs, the girl knew they weren't the cause. Incredibly, the girl found that, at that moment, she didn't _want_ to leave. This world was as alien to her as the jade glow cast by its moon, no matter how easily she might overlook it. Alice did not belong in Wonderland. But it was not Wonderland making her heart ache. And perhaps she wasn't alone in her tumult of confused feeling. Maybe the breath Hatter had just drawn came out a touch shaky, but he was right, she needed to go home.

"Yeah," she forced out, trying for the same lightness her voice had held a moment before. "I think I've had enough of Wonderland for a while."

"Yes, I am sure you have. Right?" her friend agreed with a breathy laugh that she tried to match.

"Maybe a lifetime or two." Hatter nodded, his smile fading as he sobered, looking at his shoes before meeting her eyes again.

"Still, we had… we had a laugh, you know? Had some good times." His expression was tenderly hopeful for a fraction of a second before he covered it with an ironic smirk. "Obviously, among all the bad times."

Alice smiled gently at him, shaking her head. "No, we didn't." Being chased by people and things that wanted them dead, tortured, beaten, and bruised and - in his case - broken.

"No?" She completely understood the thought behind his quietly questioning tone. The things they had gone through were horrible, but those times they had been together seemed different. Better.

"Well, that one time was nice," the girl admitted softly. The choirflies. That had been more than nice, it was downright magical. His dark eyes mirrored her own stormy, blue-gray and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

"Yeah," Hatter agreed, his voice oddly deep and barely above a whisper. Her breath hitched and she licked her suddenly too dry lips. Her eyes dropped to his parted lips, remembering how very close they had come to her own. He swallowed hard, but said nothing more.

"Alice?" came a voice she recognized, but couldn't place. Looking over her shoulder, the girl saw the technician not far off, with pale eyebrows raised expectantly. Right. People were waiting.

"Sorry," she said quickly and turned back to her friend. She had put off removing the lush coat until the last possible moment, but it had arrived. Alice shrugged the jacket off her shoulders, looking up when she heard a click of breath between teeth.

"You don't have to," her friend was saying, brows furrowed slightly. He trailed off into silence once more, taking in her appearance as though he had not noticed what she was wearing until just now. The muscle in the side of his jaw twitched and the girl didn't think he was breathing any longer. His intense stare made her shift, not exactly in discomfort, but because something in his gaze wouldn't allow her to stand still.

"I can't bring it back with me. I have to go as I came," she explained, ignoring the way she sounded almost out of breath and held the coat out to its rightful owner.

"Oh," he said, blinking his way out of whatever thought had held him so still a moment before. "Brilliant." He smiled, dusting the coat off and draping it over his cast carefully. "Thank you."

Now the two stood, awkward like school children, each trying to find something to say to prolong the moment or swiftly bring it to an end. Apparently, Hatter was in the second camp.

"So, we should," he opened his arms - _arm_ - as best he could and Alice got the message. She stepped closer, slipping her arms around his waist. The hug was anything but satisfying, short and almost impersonal as she didn't dare press any closer for fear of causing him pain. The only thing she did manage was to inhale his scent deeply, that mix of deep warmth and spice, one last time.

As they pulled apart, unspoken words crowded behind his dark gaze, pulling harshly at the little oyster inside. God, he could always read her so easily, how could he not see the storm churning behind her ocean eyes? She hurried to fill the spaces left by the things he wouldn't say.

"You could always visit my world," she offered, praying it didn't sound as desperate aloud as it did in her head. "You might like it."

"Yeah," he agreed with far too much enthusiasm. "We could… we could do pizza."

Alice forced a smiled that felt broken on her lips. She understood now. He could read her, he was reading her, he knew exactly what was going on in her mind - as he always did. "Yeah." It was easier to fake the airy tone now than a moment ago, now that she understood. "There's lots of other things to do in New York, too."

"Alice, please," the technician said from beside her. She hadn't even noticed him moving towards her. He took hold of her arm gently and urged her towards the Looking Glass.

"Really?" Hatter asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "I was just-"

The girl let the pale man lead her away, glancing back just once with a parting smile. _I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow_. Hatter's mouth opened, his eyes filled with yearning. She knew he wanted to tell her he knew how she felt, he wanted to reassure her she would be alright; he wanted her to let him go. He was her friend and he cared, nothing less, nothing more. For her own part, she wanted him to know she understood, but there wasn't time. There were thirteen steps between Hatter and the Looking Glass and that was the shortest and longest distance she had ever traveled in her life.

"Just force yourself to breath," the pale technician advised, planting a hand in the middle of her back. The last thing Alice Hamilton saw of Wonderland was Hatter, reflected for her in the mirror. Her cloudy gaze met his dark one just before she was shoved through the Glass and fell forever through light and into crushing shadow.

* * *

**Sad? Heart wrenching? I'd say sorry, but I'm not really. We all know it turns out alright in the end. Still... I do feel bad for Hatter and Alice. **

**Oh, btw, there were a couple things that somehow got left out of two previous chapters between my computer and . It was bothering me so I fixed it. It's just the last paragraph of chapter 4 and the first paragraph of chapter 12. Nothing huge, just something that was digging at me.**


	26. Finally

**Oh boy. Here it is, the good stuff. Well, it's all been good, but this is the REALLY good stuff. Enjoy!**

* * *

The one thing Alice had not planned on in her return to Earth was the landing. A fairly important thing to overlook, one might say, but there it was. And there it was, the concrete floor of the antique warehouse rushing up to meet her. Her last thought was that this couldn't hurt any worse than crashing the flamingo had. Unfortunately, instead of her back taking the brunt of the impact evenly, as it had on the rooftop, she hit hard on her shoulder and hip, cracking her head against the stone. The world went black and when she came to, the girl was laying in a hospital bed with an IV in one arm and a very worried mother on the other.

"Hey," Carol said softly. "You're awake."

Alice licked her lips, finding them sandpapery dry, her mouth tasting sour. "Am I?"

"If not, this is a pretty crappy dream, honey," her mother smiled gently, brushing her fingers against the girl's forehead. "You're in the hospital."

"I gathered as much," her daughter intoned, looking around the stereotypical hospital room. The liquid in her IV was clear, as it should have been. "How long have I been out?"

"It's been almost three hours since the police found you."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "The police?"

Carol nodded. "Mr. Finch who owns the antique store saw you go into his warehouse." The older woman paused, licking her own lips, obviously struggling with what to say next. "A man was forcing you. Was it Jack, Alice? Did he do this?"

The little oyster - though, not really an oyster anymore, was she? - rushed to reassure her mother. "No, Mom, I swear. Jack would never," she shook her head, squeezing her mom's hand. "I was too late, he was already gone."

"What- can you tell me what happened?" Carol's eyes were filled with tears, her tone so soft it were as though she was terrified her words would somehow physically harm her already battered daughter. Alice's chest ached with guilt and sympathy. Her mother thought she had been attacked, that had been the cover story she was supposed to use. She was glad Jack had planned ahead and had one of his agents on this side of the Glass call the police, though he might have warned her about the hard landing. She should have guessed the owner of Pink Pendant Antiques was from Wonderland, since the mirror she had fallen through was in his warehouse.

The worst part about this lie was her own history with men and her mother knowing most of it. She could almost see the thoughts in the woman's head; knew that front and foremost would be the assault Alice had experienced in her brief time in college and the fallout from it.

"I don't remember a lot," she lied easily. It was either live with the consequences of this fabrication, however sickening they may be, or tell her mother the truth and end up staying in her own little room in this hospital for a very long time. "There was a bunch of them; maybe three waiting inside."

Her mother broke, tears streaming down her face. The girl sat up, ignoring the sharp hurt the movement did her ribs, and hugged Carol close.

"Hey, come on," she said, petting her distraught parent's hair. "It's okay. They didn't _do_ anything."

Carol drew back, a look of incredulous anguish on her face. "_Look_ at you!"

"A few bumps and bruises," her daughter insisted, sounding very like Hatter in the casino. "You should see _them_."

"If there were three of them-"

She cut the woman off, knowing where her mind was and trying her damnedest to bring it out of that horrible pit. "You know me, Mom," she said seriously. "If something like that happened, I wouldn't keep quiet about it."

Carol nodded, knowing this was true. Alice had brought down the wrath of Heaven on the person - too old to be a boy, too disgusting to be a man - who had raped her. There was no reason she would do any less now.

"Besides, the doctors would have checked me over while I was out," she added, bringing in outside confirmation to lay her mother's worst fears to rest. "You'd know if they found anything."

"You're right," the woman finally conceded, wiping the wetness from under her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't help-"

"I know. Don't be sorry," Alice insisted, laying back down. "_I'm_ sorry. Running out alone like that was stupid."

"Yeah, it was," her mother agreed as sternly as she could. Alice knew that once her mom got over the initial shock and worry over this incident, she would be treated to one Hell of a lecture. That was fine. She could handle that. She even handled the police coming in to interview her about her assault and filing a false report against fictitious attackers. The next day she even managed to pretend to go out and break up with Jack Chase. It was a bit surreal, but she didn't think anything had tipped Carol off.

"I can't say I'm disappointed," the woman had said with all sympathy. Alice had nodded and shrugged.

"It just wasn't right, me and Jack," she told her mother. It felt nice to be entirely honest for the first time in almost forty-eight hours. "I think I was trying to fill a round hole with a square peg. I just didn't know it."

Her mother had nodded and rubbed her shoulder, then suggested Chinese for dinner. It was easy for her mom to believe what the girl had said, because she was acting like someone who had just broken up with her boyfriend. Sad and distracted by wistful thoughts and what-ifs, quiet and thoughtful. Alice wasn't usually so mature about her failed relationships, preferring to pretend the men in her life hadn't mattered than facing up to her real feelings. The way her mother was looking at her over the next few days made her feel strangely good about the whole thing, like Carol was proud of her - like she was more grown up.

It was the only good feeling she'd had since stepping through the Looking Glass. Alice missed her friends. She longed for her father to come home, but it would be weeks and weeks before she could even begin to expect him. If it hadn't been for the green mark on her arm -what Hatter had referred to as _the glow_ - the girl would have started to think the whole thing was a dream. She tried to function normally, going to see Master Yakata and explain why she wouldn't be teaching any classes for a while. She left the house every morning, listlessly moving through the world, filling out applications for jobs she didn't want. Every night she lay in bed, looking at the mark on her arm because it was all she had, her only connection to Wonderland and to _him_.

On the fourth night, Alice found herself standing in the dark, the only light spilling through the windows from the streetlamps and moon outside, casting a weak, sickly blue-green hue on the room. It reminded her of the rose garden on her last night. She stood between the two massive mirrors that dominated the walls between the living room and the hall that led to the bedrooms and bath. Carol loved the effect of the two mirrors facing each other, reflecting on and on into infinity. Alice stared at her reflection in the glass, tried to see beyond it to the other world she knew was there, but could not reach. If she thought about it, if she wished hard enough maybe she could get back there.

No one had questioned whether Alice would go home, it was just the way things were and had to be. No one had questioned whether she would stay there, either. Everyone had treated these things as a foregone conclusion and so Alice, herself, had never even considered other options. She had never once asked how she might find her way back to Wonderland.

He didn't want her, but if she could only see him, hear his voice, feel his eyes on her once more, it would be enough. Her hand lifted, inching with painful slowness towards the smooth surface of the mirror. _Please,_ she pleaded with whatever beings would listen. _Please, please, please._ For a split second, she thought her fingers would go right through the glass and her heart leaped. Her knuckles hit the very solid mirror and her spirits crashed back down to earth like Icarus, all pain and heartsick and empty hopes.

The next morning, she thought it had been a particularly depressing dream. She got up, showered and dressed, feeling the zombie-like fuzziness in her head that was usually reserved for when she suffered from the flu. It was strange how dull her world seemed now. The endless monochromatic gray of the city contrasting so sharply to the bright color that had been Wonderland. Not to mention the monotony, endless repetition. Or maybe it was all in her mind. So far as she noticed, the only thing that differentiated this morning from the others since her return was that halfway through breakfast, her mother said a delivery had arrived for her.

"Oh yeah?" She followed Carol out into the living room and saw the brown paper wrapped box sitting on the couch. Going over and picking it up, she inspected the return address, finding there was none. She wasn't expecting anything, so was dubious when she set the package back down and pulled away the paper. Her breath left her in a whoosh when she lifted the lid off the box, tears springing to her eyes.

"Oh, my God," Alice whispered, trailing her fingers over the silver embroidery on the smoky blue tunic.

"Honey? Are you alright?" her mother's gently concerned voice floated to her from miles away. She nodded, lifting the shirt from the box and finding a pair of clay colored leather britches underneath. No doubt, there would be a pair of boots beneath those. _Oh, Charlie._ The old paladin had found a way for his gift to make it back to her. Indeed, the boots were there under her trousers, but that wasn't all. A neatly folded expanse of purple velvet waited on the bottom of the box.

In a slow trance, she set the knight's clothing aside and carefully lifted the gorgeous plum coat from the package. Hatter had sent this to her, had given it to her, wanted _her_ to have it.

"Alice, what's going on?" Carol asked, laying a hand on her child's shoulder. Alice cleared her throat, dashing the tears away with the back of her hand.

"It's a present from a friend of mine. I never thought he'd send me these," she half explained.

"What friend?" She could see the curiosity in her mother's eyes, knew the questions had to be piling up in her mind, but couldn't bring herself to answer them now. "Honey, talk to me."

"I can't right now, Mom," she choked out around the swell of emotion in her throat. Two minutes later she was out the door.

Alice went determinedly to Pink Pendant Antiques only to find the shop with a Closed sign on the door and curtains drawn across the windows. Ignoring the pain and the fact that it was illegal - breaking and entering was a charge she knew something about from her less than laudable youth - she kicked in the door to the warehouse and saw it had been emptied, only cobwebs and dust remaining. Knowing exactly what she would find, the girl retraced her steps from that fateful night, and ended up staring at a blank brick wall where an ornate mirror had once stood. Sitting on her butt on the cold, dirty floor of the warehouse, the little oyster cried. There was no way back. Something philosophical in that, but she didn't care. All Alice cared about was the feeling of loss in her chest, the ache that had nothing to do with her mending ribs.

It was ridiculous. What was Hatter to her? A friend, a protector, a hero. He was an amazing man, but she'd only known him three days. She must be out of her mind to have gotten so attached in such a short time. Yes, he was probably the bravest, most selfless person she had ever met. Granted, he was sharp as a tack and wonderfully unique. That didn't mean she had fallen for him. He was a friend. She was just mourning the loss of a fantasy. Because that's what it amounted to. _A fish may love a bird, but where would they live? _She and Hatter could never be together, not really. She was from New York, her whole life was here on Earth. He was from Wonderland and that was where he belonged. It was a silly, unrealistic infatuation and nothing real could come of it.

The only choice she had was to let him go, as he had wanted her to. Alice had to think clearly now, not dwell on things she couldn't have. Wonderland was a place where the impossible happened everyday; here, the impossible was just that - impossible. And, dammit, Alice was from this side of the Glass, born and bred, thank you very much.

That didn't mean she couldn't visit, right? Carpenter would be home in a matter of weeks. Surely he would know how to get back through the Looking Glass. After all, Hatter wasn't the only thing she missed about Wonderland. There was Charlie, after all. It would be unforgivable of her to just forget all about the valiant White Knight after everything they had shared. And even Jack, who would be King by the time she saw her father again. And to be completely honest, she wanted to see the way the realm had changed now that it was free of the Queen's oppressive rule.

In the mean time, Alice could get her head on straight again. To that end, she was carrying two grocery bags when she stepped back into her apartment later that morning. Her mother was home, waiting for her. Usually Carol would have been at work, but had taken some time off to be there for Alice. It wasn't really necessary, but it made her mother happy and the girl didn't mind having someone else there to distract her from the maudlin thoughts that plagued her night and day.

"What's this?" her mom asked as she emptied the bags onto the table. Her daughter's cheeks flushed slightly as she set the plastic bakery containers and candy bars off to the side. "Sliced cream cake and Hershey bars?"

"Just taking a friend's advice," she said by way of explanation, going to put the plastic bags with the recyclables. Her mother opened one of the containers and took a slice for herself, making a sound of enjoyment as she bit into it. Alice chuckled. "Help yourself."

"Smart friend." Her mother smiled around her treat and wiped a crumb away from the corner of her mouth. "Do you want to talk about that package now?"

Alice paused, brows furrowing thoughtfully. "No," she finally decided, taking a slice of cake for herself. "It's not as dramatic as it seemed. I kind of overreacted."

"Oh?" her mother prompted, but didn't push.

"Everything that's happened this week has me a bit out of it, you know?" Carol's eyes softened much with sympathy and sorrow. She understood her daughter had suffered much in the last few days, but even so, didn't know the half of it. "I just wasn't expecting it and I kind of lost it for a second. But I'm okay."

"You know you can tell me anything," her mother stated with gentle firmness. "Not just the big stuff."

Alice nodded, gracing her parent with an affectionate half smile. "I know."

Hatter was an idiot. All eating large amounts of chocolate and cream cake did was give you a stomach ache. She cursed him silently as she curled up in bed that evening with a bottle of Pepto Bismol, hugging the sumptuous velvet around her.

Day six out of Wonderland and Alice stopped counting. She wore Sir Miranda's shirt with a pair of black jeans to an interview at a book shop not far from her house and got the job. Sitting in an air conditioned office. Answering vaguely uncomfortable questions seemed rather trivial after her adventure beyond the Looking Glass. That night she and her mother celebrated with left over cream cake. The girl held no ill will towards the dessert; it wasn't the cakes' fault she'd gotten bad advice. When not wearing long sleeves, she put copious amounts of concealer on her arm to hide the oyster's mark, _really_ not wanting to have to explain it to her mother just now.

Thursday she slept in. There was no need to wake up at a reasonable time, as there was no need for job hunting now that she had found one. Master Yakata called to check in on her and ask how her ribs and ankle were doing. In Alice's estimation, they weren't healing fast enough. Her friend and teacher had warned her not to rush so much, as haste is wont to trip on its own heels. She hated it when he got proverbial. She hated it worse when he was right. Daytime TV was worthless, so the girl busied herself in other ways, doing what little she could around the house.

In her room, she dressed in something comfortable and colorful. A long-sleeved, cotton T-shirt -white with bright orange, yellow, and white striped sleeves and a cartoon candy corn on the chest. A purchase from the previous Halloween that she loved to bits. She also pulled on a pair of blue jeans that were faded and well worn, a tear over the left knee that just happened to still look fashionably prefabricated, but was one hundred percent genuine. Topping (or bottoming) it all off was a pair of orange socks. Her hair was pulled back haphazardly into a ponytail and if more than a few strands of hair escaped the elastic band, she neither noticed, nor cared. As she didn't plan on going out today, she didn't put on a bra and her ribs thanked her.

Alice carefully hung up the coat, _her_ coat, and went to her computer, closing out all her accounts in various people-finder type websites and communities. She should have done so with her door closed, but hadn't expected her mother to be so light footed. The woman was behind her, looking over her shoulder before Alice could minimize the windows.

"What's this?" she asked softly. Her daughter turned, looking up at the woman soberly.

"I'm not going to find Dad on any of these sites," Alice told her, the girl's voice quiet. Carol did not protest, they both knew she had believed as much since before the first time Alice had begun her search. "This week has kind of opened my eyes. I need to move on, you know?"

Her parent nodded, bending to wrap the girl in a loving hug, which she returned wholeheartedly. It was true, really, even if it wasn't entirely on point. More importantly, it made her mother happy. She smiled widely, now that her mother couldn't see. She couldn't wait until her father walked back through their front door for the first time in almost fourteen years and made their family whole again.

The intercom buzzed and her mother pulled back with a gentle smile. "We should do something tonight. You and me," Carol said. The girl nodded, her smile returning. As her mother went to answer the door, Alice turned back to her computer, clicking off the windows one by one.

"Alice, there's another delivery for you," the older woman called. Her heart jumped up excitedly. Another package? What could it be? She stood, but paused, taking a deep breath. It might not even be from Wonderland, after all. She could be getting all excited about nothing. Her expectations firmly back in check, the girl headed out into the living room to see what had come in the mail.

"I'm sorry, what company do you work for?" Carol was asking the deliveryman.

Alice had barely set a foot out of the hallway when she stopped. It wasn't only her legs that stopped, her heart stopped, her mind stopped, her lungs stopped. This was New York, this was Earth, this was nothing if not _not_ Wonderland and, yet, there in her doorway stood something impossible. White and black sneakers, faded black jeans, a white T-shirt, and brown canvas jacket covered a too familiar shape, shrouding something wholly inexplicable in treacherous normalcy. Deep chocolate eyes turned from her mother and found her own, the only part of her that had not frozen upon the sight of this inconceivable thing. The hand on an arm that should by all rights be in a cast lifted quickly, pulling a black fedora off the top of a head covered in monstrously well-behaved black hair.

It was everything she'd been wishing for wrapped in the deceptive guise of reality.

"Hatter!" Her lips and tongue and lungs worked together without her brain's assistance, gasping out the name like a plea for water in the desert. His mouth opened slightly, no words coming out to respond, but his eyes spoke volumes. Her heart was the next to recover and did it ever, slamming against her ribs as if seeking to finish the job and break the bones apart. She was running over the hardwood before she knew it and, dear God, yes, he was stepping passed her confused mother and across the room to meet her. Two torturous seconds and she was in his arms, her own thrown around his neck and holding on for dear life. There was no pain as she pressed her body firmly against his, her face against his neck, and breathed deeply of that heavenly scent.

His breath left him in a huff, his arms tightening just a bit more. "Finally."

The sound of Hatter's voice so close to her ear, the feel of his heart beating against her breast once more brought her brain back to life in an instant. This was real. This was _real_.

"It's not magic," she whispered, fingers curling against the fabric of his jacket. "It's just you."

The man in her arms let out a single, breathless laugh. He drew back and she knew it was because he wanted to look into her eyes when he responded. Alice didn't care what he had to say, she didn't intend to let him speak. Cheshire Cat had said Wonderland made itself known just fine, so she had only herself to blame for letting the opportunities provided slip by her. The choirflies, standing before the Looking Glass; these were moments offered and she had been too foolish to act. Third time lucky, she didn't care what the outcome, the girl wasn't going to let this chance be wasted. As her pale eyes met his dark ones, her breath hitched. She _was_ going to kiss him and damn the consequences.

But Alice didn't kiss him. While her brain was sending the signals to the rest of her to get moving, he was already bending down to press his lips to hers. God, it was perfect. Those pale pink lips were every bit as soft as they looked. He tasted like _hot_ and _sweet_ and if it had a flavor then, sweet Jesus, Hatter tasted of _bliss_; it was the most addictive combination that had ever slipped across her tongue and all she wanted was more and more and more.

He broke away, his breath falling heavy and hot on her lips as his forehead rested against hers. "I missed you," he whispered. The words entered her mouth and curled warmly around her heart, turning the ache into something beautiful. And oh, she had missed him, too. The girl kissed him again, preferring to show him without words how she felt and it was so good nothing else mattered.

Except that something else was her mother who was growing more confused and agitated by the second. "Alice, what the Hell is going on?" she demanded, physically pulling the two apart. Hatter stumbled back a few paces, eyes so dark as to be almost black as he blinked away the fog in his head. Alice knew this was what he was doing, because the same fog had infected her, passed from his mouth to her own.

"Mom," she stuttered, desperately pulling her thoughts together. "This is Hatter."

"_Hatter?_" Carol repeated. Until that moment, Alice had forgotten how odd a name it was.

"David," Hatter stepped in with the save, sounding apologetic. "David Templeton. Hatter is a nickname, Mrs. Hamilton."

"Who _is_ this?" Her mother's voice was filled with endless confusion as she asked the question. Alice did her best not to look surprised upon hearing Hatter's real name for the first time.

"It's a long story," she said, stalling for time to think of something plausible. Her eyes found Hatter's, pleading with him, hoping he had something to offer.

"So, start telling it," the older woman instructed, shutting the still open front door.

"I met Alice a few months ago, through a mutual friend," the man began, haltingly. "We got on very well."

"I can see that," her mother commented sardonically, bringing color up in both her daughter's cheeks and those of the strange man standing before her.

"Sorry about that," he apologized, lips twitching as he tried not to smile.

"Were you dating this man while you were seeing Jack?" Carol turned to Alice, sounding scandalized as the thought occurred to her. The girl rushed to correct the misconception.

"No!" she insisted. "No, Hatt- David and I never dated. I…" She faltered, then had a stroke of genius. "He was here on a temporary work visa and had to go back to England."

"We thought it would be better not to start something that would just end badly," Hatter added smoothly. "Then Alice started dating Jack and it all seemed to be for the best."

"Would one of you care to explain what just happened, then?"

Alice opened her mouth to say something, but Hatter lifted a finger to silence her. "I'll take that one," he told her gently, lips curving up into a little smile. "I let this amazing woman slip right through my fingers and have spent every moment of the last eight weeks regretting it. "

The girl gasped softly, eyes taking in the lack of bruises and missing cast anew. "Eight weeks?"

He nodded, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together, despite her mother looking on with disapproval. "I know it's a bit uncouth to declare your feelings for a woman who's already in a relationship," he admitted, barely managing to look contrite. "But I had to give it a shot, you know? When she was so happy to see me, I suppose I lost my head for a moment."

"And you lied about being a deliveryman, why?"

"I wanted to surprise her." He ducked his head and chuckled with chagrin. "Oh," he exclaimed softly, turning his eyes to Alice once more, his smile adorably crooked. He lifted his other hand, which she had not realized was grasping something other than his hat until just then. "This is for you."

It was a flower, the long stem of which had broken at some point in their embrace and hung over his knuckles pathetically. A single, white carnation. He remembered. Her chest tightened with a lovely warmth as she accepted the ruined flower like he had given her a diamond ring, holding it just under the blossom so the broken stem didn't matter. _Oh, Hatter._

"Alice, could I speak with you for a moment? Mr. Templeton can wait here." No matter how politely they were phrased, Alice's mother's words were an order and there were no two ways about it. The women went into the kitchen and Carol ran a hand through her bangs.

"I'm sorry I never told you about David, Mom," Alice rushed to speak before the older woman had a chance. "But we were just friends and he was leaving the country."

"If I'm counting right, your friend went back to Britain a week or two before you started dating Jack?" Carol offered, sounding far calmer and more thoughtful than the girl had expected. She nodded slowly, doing some quick math of her own.

"Something like that," she agreed. Alice was surprised when her mother visibly relaxed, appearing to have worked something out to her liking, but the girl had no idea what. "You're not mad?"

"No, I'm not mad," her mom declared, actually smiling. For God's sake, she actually looked _pleased_. Not that she didn't want her mother to be pleased, she just wanted to understand why. "He seems very sweet."

"Sweet?" the girl blinked.

"Yes, he flew all the way here from Britain to tell you how he feels and showed up on your doorstep holding your favorite flower. I'd say that falls under 'sweet', don't you?" Her mother was smirking. If she only knew how far Hatter had really traveled. He really had come a long way for her, hadn't he? Carol's smirk melted into a soft smile at something she saw in Alice's face. She plucked the abused carnation from the girl's grasp and nodded towards the other room. "I think you two have a lot to talk about."

"But, Mom," Alice began, really not grasping why her mother almost seemed to _approve_ of Hatter. It couldn't just be the very romantic idea that he had crossed an ocean for her. Her mother wasn't so sentimental as that. Not that the girl knew of, anyway. In fact, she had been all suspicion until she worked out just when David had left for England. Alice still had no idea what had changed the woman's mind when Carol waved her off.

"Don't worry about me," she insisted lightly. "We can still have mother-daughter time later tonight. I think the best thing right now would be for you and David to discuss a few things."

It was all a jumble and Alice was always one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but just this once she would take something offered at face value and worry about it later. She nodded and went back into the living room to find Hatter still standing by the front door, chewing his nail and looking around the room with curiosity. She smiled, taking in his tamed hair and down to earth outfit. Had he dressed like that to make a good impression on her mother? Carol was right, he really was sweet.

He heard her footfalls and looked up, hand falling away from his mouth. "She hates me, doesn't she?" he asked, somewhat despondently. Alice smiled and shook her head.

"Actually, no. I think she likes you," she told him, making no effort to hide how surprised she was by that fact. "She says we should go talk."

"Really?" His dark brows shot up, as thought this was too good to be true.

"I think we should, too," the girl agreed with her mother. Hatter was of the same mind and in two minutes the pair was making their way down the stairs to the sidewalk outside her home. They walked in silence for a few moments, each trying to find the right words. How she could feel so awkward now when only minutes before the man had his tongue halfway down her throat was a mystery to Alice.

"We should get a taxi," Hatter said softly. "You shouldn't be walking around so much on that ankle."

He stepped towards the street, flagging down the first yellow cab that drove up. When the car stopped, he turned back to her with a wide grin, like a proud child looking to a parent for approval. She couldn't have helped but return the smile if she had tried. He ushered her into the vehicle, slipping in behind her and gave the cabbie an address.

"Where are we going?" the girl asked, brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity.

"My apartment," Hatter replied, suddenly looking uncertain when her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You have an apartment?"

He half nodded, half shrugged. "Yes and no. It's not technically mine. Belongs to the Resistance," the man explained. "I thought it would be best to talk somewhere private. Unless you didn't want to. I mean, we could go somewhere else."

His little anxious expression over his choice of venue made her bite back a chuckle. "It's fine, Hatter." She made an amused face. "David."

He smiled softly at the sound of his name on her lips. His fingers brushed against hers on the seat of the car and after a moment's hesitation, Alice put her hand in his. It was strange how things they had been doing since their first meeting, like holding hands, suddenly seemed to take on new significance. As his fingers closed around hers, she found herself leaning just a little closer.

"I got the package," she told him softly, her heartbeat skittering as he brushed his thumb over her knuckles.

His smile warmed her nicely. "Yeah? Sent that through about five weeks ago."

"It's really been eight weeks?" she asked, trying to grasp that length of time. Her friend nodded.

"I wouldn't have waited so long if it had been my choice," he said, reading her mind and answering the question before she'd asked it. "I was only oblivious for two days."

"You were going to come after me after two days?" He had just said as much, but she couldn't stop the whispered words from passing her lips. It was too big a notion to just gloss over; to Alice at least. He nodded, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear tenderly.

"I never should have just let you go like that," he told her, barely above a whisper. "I know you had to leave, but I should have _said_ something."

"Hey, I'm just as guilty as you," the girl insisted. "I just thought you didn't-"

"Well, I do," he cut her off before she could finish the statement. God, she wanted to kiss him again. Her eyes lingered on his lips so long they might as well have been paying rent.

"What did you mean, it wasn't your choice?" she asked, trying to keep herself from forgetting there was a random cabbie not two feet away.

"King Jack-"

"He's King now?" She smiled, happy for her former lover, but a little sad she'd missed his big coronation. Hatter nodded.

"He closed down the Looking Glass while him and his advisors came up with a way to regulate passage back and forth. I had to put in an application," he rolled his eyes. "Caterpillar said it would go through first, but no one through the Glass means _no one_, so I had to wait."

"But you came back to now?"

He nodded again, licking his lips before speaking. "I was afraid if I gave you too much time, I'd be too late," he admitted softly. The girl felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards, her eyes softening.

"It wouldn't have been," she assured him, running her fingers under the collar of his jacket. "But thank you for not making me wait."

His eyes were so deep and warm, she wanted to curl up inside his gaze. How had she been so blind as to think he didn't want her? Too wrapped up in her own insecurities, insecurities that had no place between her and Hatter.

"The cream cake was really not working at all," she informed the man in a slightly accusatory tone. He chuckled, something light dancing in his eyes at her statement. Perhaps it was the fact that she had remembered what he said in passing, perhaps the fact that she had just admitted to trying to use comfort food to ease the ache leaving him had left in her.

"That only works with 'I care'," he chided with gentle teasing. The words struck a chord in her and the teasing smile on her lips faded. If anyone else, any other man in her life had done what Hatter had just done, she would have ran for the hills. Implying that what she felt for him went beyond simple caring would have been hugely presumptuous coming from anyone else. This amazing man, however, was entitled to say such things. And, Alice realized, being completely honest with herself, it was entirely true.

"Then, I've got only myself to blame," she responded after a moment of silence, her voice feeling slightly thick in her throat. Hatter chuckled.

"I like to think I had a hand in it, too," he told her with a cocky half-smirk. That shouldn't have been as sexy as it was, but it was and there was nothing she could do about the way her pulse jumped. She shifted on the seat of the cab and the man at her side noticed, eyes dropping to her lips and darkening in a whole new way for her.

"How's Charlie been?" she asked completely out of the blue, needing something to cool off the conversation that was threatening to fog up the taxi's windows. Eyes still on her mouth, Hatter chuckled.

"He's been doing quite well, actually," he smiled. "Been working with Caterpillar to make the Kingdom accessible, but not disrespecting the knights at all. Won't take any money for his work either, but he's making a nice profit selling those beehive mousetraps of his in the city."

Alice laughed at that last statement and her friend joined her. That White Knight was quite a character. "What about you? What happened to the Tea Shop?"

Hatter's smile faded. "It's closed. For good." His voice was somber, regretful. She wanted to say something to bring his smile back, but he went on. "Dormie had the idea what we should reopen the place as a dance club. Now that the Queen is out of power, all kinds of music is going to flood into the realm. I figured it wasn't such a bad idea. We were scheduled to open in a couple days, but my paperwork went through, so now he's got to do it without me. He'll be fine."

His lips twitched and Alice smiled fully at the thought of little Dormie as a nightclub owner, asleep behind the bar. "What's it called? Hatter's?"

He looked away, almost shyly, and chuckled. "Actually, I decided to name it Choirflies."

Her heart melted. "That's a good name for a dance club," she complimented. When his eyes found hers again, the little oyster decided she didn't care who was there to see and reached up, sliding her hand around the back of Hatter's neck. His hair was just as soft as she remembered, tickling her fingers lightly as she drew the man towards her and pressed her lips to his. He breathed out heavily through his nose and something very pleased with itself curled up in her stomach and, fuck, she wished they weren't sitting in the back of a cab.

Wish granted. The car stopped and the cabbie turned to announced the fare with a completely apathetic tone. God knew what kind of things he had seen happen in the back of this car; there was no way a simple kiss was going to ruffle his feathers. Hatter reached into his pocket and pulled out some folded bills, giving the driver far too much money and pulling Alice from the vehicle.

"Do you know how much you just paid him?" she asked with wide-eyed amusement. The dark haired man shook his head.

"No idea," he admitted uncaringly. "It's just paper, Alice."

"It's not just paper here," she told him. "If you keep doing that, soon you won't have any left."

He gave her a mischievous grin. "Then your ex will just have to give me some more."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. If he was getting his money from Jack, it was no wonder he didn't care how quickly he burned through it.

The building they now stood before was fairly nice, nicer than Alice had somehow expected. She didn't know why she assumed a Resistance owned apartment would be like a safe house off Law & Order, but she had. There wasn't a doorman or anything, but there was an elevator so she didn't have to limp her way up the four flights to Hatter's apartment. Though she had the suspicion he wouldn't have let her make it up the stairs entirely under her own power anyway. The two were silent again as they made their way to the man's door, Alice's hand feeling sweaty in his as it had on the ledge of the city in Wonderland, thankfully from an entirely different set of nerves.

His key was all but soundless as he pulled it from his pocket and let them into the apartment, which seemed wrong. Everyone the girl had ever met in her life had a keyring that jingled. All Hatter had was a single key, to this one lock. Inside, Alice looked around as her friend locked the door behind them. The place was all done in earth tones, deep greens and rich browns. The furniture was leather and looked expensive and comfortable. Everything was tasteful and understated and matched beautifully. It was so completely _not_ Hatter.

She turned to tell him as much, but the smile that was forming on her lips fell away as she took him in again. He was leaning against the door now, hands behind the small of his back, just looking at her. Not just looking, but _looking_ and her pulse leapt again.

"You're beautiful," he said then. He'd never said any such thing to the girl before and, while he wasn't the first to tell her such, it somehow meant more coming from him. She actually believed he thought so and felt the color rise hot in her cheeks. She walked back to him, there at the door, and stopped just in front of him, only inches away. Slowly, she reached up and plucked the hat from his head, tossing it onto the nearby couch. Biting her lip, Alice ran her fingers through his soft, midnight hair, mussing it intentionally. His eyes slipped closed, a rush of air leaving his lungs and he swallowed once. His hair easily abandoned the neat style he had imposed on it, curling away wildly.

"That's better," she whispered, pleased with her work. His eyes opened again and she saw that they were filled with heat and dark with want and knew her own mirrored them in another shade. He leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss that held nothing back and shot heat through her like a lance. It wasn't until the door was pressed against her back that she even realized he had turned them around. A soft grunt, a sound of want vibrated against her mouth and her stomach clenched in the most wonderfully wanton of ways. The girl's fingers were in his hair again, gripping tightly as she lifted up on her toes to press her mouth harder against his.

Hatter was not shy by any stretch of the imagination and once she'd opened the door, he made himself at him. His hands slid over her body possessively, learning every curve. He slipped them under the back of her shirt, feeling the bare flesh there for the first time. Her lack of a bra meant there was nothing between his touch and her body at that moment, the realization and sensation of which sent wet heat coiling low in her stomach and between her thighs. When she sucked his tongue into her mouth, curling her own around it, he growled deliciously. Those hands dropped low, cupping her backside and pulling her up almost off her feet and flush against his body, hot and hard like freshly molded steel. Alice moaned into his mouth, her nails scraping against his scalp lightly as her fingers moved down to tug at his jacket.

It only took him a moment to grasp what she was trying to do and an instant later, the garment was on the floor and Hatter had broken the kiss. He stared into her eyes, breathing heavily as he questioned her without words. Alice took the moment he offered to draw air into her lungs, hoping some of it would make its way to her brain. Not because she had any doubt about what it was she wanted - a new and rather lovely experience for the girl - but because she feared she might pass out from the way he made her temperature spike. Her silence and inaction went on a split second too long.

"Alice," he said her name and the way his voice cracked, low and rough in his throat, felt like a whole new kind of caress. Before he could say more, move further into doubt, she dropped her own hands to the hem of his shirt and tugged upwards, a catlike smile curving her lips when he actually gasped. The shirt was up and off before she had a chance to appreciate the sight of him removing it, but she forgave him that slight when all that creamy skin was hers to take in. Hatter was lanky and lean, like a wild cat, his chest bare but for a sparse stripe of hair that ran from his breastbone down, disappearing into his jeans. His skin was smooth and hot, soft under her hands as she petted his flesh with greedy reverence; it was salt and spice on her tongue as Alice leaned in to kiss his collarbone and stole a taste of him.

That growl came again, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine. He pulled the elastic from her hair and wove his fingers into her locks, pulling her head back and sealing his mouth to hers once more. He walked backwards, one hand feeling behind him to find his way as he led her from the room. She followed, drawn by the wet heat of his mouth down the hall and finally to a stop. He broke from her again, this time leaving her altogether. Darting around the room, Hatter, she saw, was turning on every light he could find, even though the sun was still shining in through the window. Not that the girl didn't know why - he wanted to see her - and it made her shiver wonderfully.

Back before her now, his hands were tugging her own shirt up and off and she couldn't help but hiss softly as the pain in her ribs resurfaced when she raised hr arms. He noticed. There were bruises on her torso that she had forgotten about in the fog of lust. Damn. His touch was far too light for her liking as he caressed her. He dropped to his knees, turning her under his hands so he could press soft kisses to the marks that marred her skin. It was too sweet, too hot and her knees turned to rubber, her hands gripping his shoulders just to stay upright. The fly of her jeans was no match for nimble fingers and soon fell open, the pants dropping to pool around her feet, revealing a pair of yellow polka dotted boyshorts that actually made him laugh. It was a deep, husky sound that made her bite her lip hard as she stepped out of the jeans, the garment catching around her own sneakers and pulling them and her socks away in one convenient bundle.

Hatter's breath fell hot and cold on her stomach, his tongue leaving a burning trail as it teasingly circled her navel and dipped wickedly below the waistband of her underpants. Her fingers curled against his skin, nails digging in a little as she whimpered. He groaned softly, slipping off her last vestige of clothing and leaving her completely bare before him. His mouth was on her skin again, searing the flesh of her hips and thighs and the place that needed his touch most. She gripped his hair, pulling his head back.

"Please," she hissed. It had felt good, so good, but she wanted so much more. Understanding her, as he always did, the man got back to his feet. He reached for his own fly, but Alice pushed his hands away. "My turn."

She easily unzipped him, moaning as she saw with heavy lidded eyes that he wore nothing underneath his jeans. Shoving the pants down, she left him to his own devices to get out of them completely as her attention was fixated on what she had done to his body. Her fingers curled around his shaft, the hard arousal throbbing and scorching her palm like a brand. He groaned loudly, hips arching forward into her touch as his head fell back. Determined not to let any more opportunities slip by her, Alice licked along his exposed throat, nipping at his pulse point and earning herself another groan. She stroked her fingers against his hardness firmly and he growled her name, bringing the pleasurable throb between her legs to a burning ache.

"David," she moaned breathily into his ear, using his given name just because the fancy struck her.

Suddenly, he gripped her arms, pulling her back from him and turning them around. He moved them to the waiting bed, not letting her go as she kneeled up on it, but pushing her back and down onto the rumbled, half turned down coverlet. When he did let her go, it was only to yank the blanket fully out of the way. The girl realized that he had slept in this bed once, she could smell him on the pillow under her head, and had not bothered to make the bed when he woke up. Something about that struck her as wonderfully arousing and she pulled him down atop her, parting her thighs to cuddle him between.

"Alice!" he groaned her name, rocking against her gently, his arousal pressed against her in a cruel tease.

"God, Hatter, please," she hissed, arching up against him. He caught her lips again, slanting his mouth against hers and plunging his tongue deep in hungry preamble. Reaching between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. Alice turned her head to break the kiss. "Don't you have a condom?"

Hatter panted down at her, blinking without comprehension. "A what?"

"Oh, Jesus," she laughed. She couldn't help but laugh, what else was there to do? Her sixth grade health teacher would have hit her with a brick, but the girl made a quick decision. "Never mind. Next time."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What are y-"

"Hatter!" she whined his name, cutting off his question, and lifted her hips against him again. Anything he might have asked flew out the window as he groaned and drove down into her, finally easing that aching need. He rolled his hips against hers slowly, giving her a moment to adjust before drawing back and sinking into her again. She cried out softly, eyes falling shut as the old ache was replaced by something far sharper and more intense. "Oh, my God…"

He took her lips again, his tongue mimicking his length inside her, slowly sliding in and out of her mouth, driving her mad. Every movement, every touch was sheer perfection, so good it almost hurt. He was slow and careful, his need to care for her his first consideration, as always, and made her heart ache as much as the rest of her. His groans of pleasure washed through her like the tide, pushing her higher and higher. Too soon, Alice was shuddering beneath him, wild tingles running rampant through her body, all originating from where they were joined.

His breath was ragged against her skin and she felt teeth on her shoulder and neck more than once, each time making her tighten around him with an involuntary spasm of pleasure. At any moment she would come apart at the seams, no matter how badly she wanted this to go on forever.

"Look at me," he suddenly ordered, his voice a beautifully growling purr. Forcing her eyes open, she found his, so dilated with lust it was like looking into the night sky. There were no butterflies in her stomach, Alice realized, but fireflies. A single spark was all it took and they were exploding within her in a shower of glorious embers that burned and seared their way from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She shrieked his name, breaking apart in his arms. Her eyes squeezed shut, she had no control anymore, her nails scrapping across his back. He shouted her name in return and she knew, wonderfully, that Hatter was right there with her. As always.

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**Hope it was good for you. ;) Don't go away. There is a bit more story after this, really.**


	27. One Fine Day

**No excuses, just got burnt out for a while. Sorry.**

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Alice sighed in a ridiculous amount of contentment enjoying the afterglow and the gentle caress of Hatter's fingers idly stroking her shoulder. Laying on the Resistance-provided bed, her head was resting on his shoulder, his left arm running beneath her. The air in the room wasn't overly cool, but coupled with the thin sheen of sweat that had been on her skin, it was enough for Alice to pull the wrinkled sheet over herself. Hatter lay sprawled immodestly beside her, humming tunelessly to himself.

"You know, you were so right," he said in a very satisfied tone. Alice tilted her head up, looking at his face.

"About what?"

He grinned, peering at her from the corner of his eye. "I might like your world, after all."

She snorted and rolled her eyes, weakly slapping her hand against his chest for being cheeky. "If you had just taken my word for it to begin with, you wouldn't have had to wait eight weeks."

He snapped his fingers ruefully. "I supposed I should always listen to you from now on?"

"Oh, God, no," she chuckled. "I'm horrible at decision making. I left, didn't I?"

"That makes us even, then." He nodded once, contented with that. After a brief pause. "What's a con-dom?" he asked, over enunciating the word. Despite laying in bed in naked, post-coital bliss, the question made Alice blush. And giggle. She explained sexually transmitted diseases to him, amused by the less than sweet pillow talk they were engaging in, and he looked properly horrified.

"Well, I don't have any of those." Hatter insisted, then his mouth snapped shut like a mousetrap and Alice laughed, knowing exactly what he was about to ask, but thought better of at the last moment.

"Neither do I." She poked him in the ribs admonishingly, earning a chagrinned little smile. "Also, it's for birth control when a woman isn't taking anything herself.""Birth control?" He looked at her blankly and her browns rose in amazement.

"Wow, the Queen didn't let birth control through either?" Her lover shrugged, looking completely lost. "It's a pill-" keep it simple for now "-that keeps a woman from getting pregnant."

Hatter blinked and looked incredulous. "You need a pill for that?"

"Well, what do Wonderlanders use?"

"Nothing. Women only have a baby when they truly want one," he explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She scoffed.

"You're kidding." He wasn't. "That's just not fair." Which made him laugh. "What if the man doesn't want a baby?"

Hatter snorted. "Then he should be more careful who he sleeps with." The girl had to agree with that.

"There aren't any little Hatters running around that I need to know about, are there?" Chuckling, he shook his head and kissed her temple.

"Not yet." Another cheeky wink. Oh, she had missed him. Even if he was a huge ass.

"Don't even think about it," Alice warned him with eyes narrowed. He laughed and shook his head, then, as expected, let his gaze wander dreamily. Which earned him another poke in the ribs.

"Hey! You know, maybe it's a good thing I had to wait the eight weeks. My ribs would never have been able handle all this abuse."

"You poor thing." Alice kissed her fingertips and pressed them in the general area where she'd been poking. "All better?"

"Yes, thanks." His tone was wryly dismissive. He caught her hand, inspecting it leisurely, tracing the lines on her palm with his thumb. "Did you know that for a good while there, I thought your name was Alice Ham?"

The admission brought another laugh to her lips. It felt like the girl had laughed more today alone than she had in months, which was very possibly true.

"Thank goodness you showed me that watch and said your father's name or I might have looked foolish."

"And we wouldn't want that," she agreed, taking his hand between her own and turning the tables, doing her own inspection. It was his right hand, his sledgehammer - which had been incredibly gentle when touching and holding her, despite its fierce reputation. The palm was slightly rough, but unblemished. It was only when the girl turned it over that she saw a long, thin scar running diagonally across his knuckles. The Vorpal Blade.

Hatter had said sometimes things just happen in Wonderland, without reason. That may be true, but Alice didn't think it was the case, not when so many things had fallen to blind chance and she somehow managed to end up with the one person in all of Wonderland who could stop the legendary sword. Not when that person was Hatter, who was so amazing even without the sledgehammer fist. But she kept that to herself for the time being.

"How is my father?"

"Well. He's doing well. Most of the oysters have gone home. The Tea trade has stopped. He feels like he's putting things right again." Hatter's voice was soft as he spoke, she knew his eyes were on her and felt warm and safe under his gaze. Cared for. Perhaps a bit more than that. "He asked me about you."

"He did?" The man nodded.

"I told him what I could. But I dunno your favorite food or what books you read. How you did in school."

The slightly sad tone brought her eyes back to his and she smiled reassuringly. "Chicken parmesan, fantasy and science fiction horror, and great until eighth grade, then average."

She had been expecting a chuckle, but didn't get it. Instead more emotion than she would have anticipated washed across his face and Hatter shifted, rolling onto his side and cupping her cheek before bringing his lips to hers with a soft sound that made her heart pound all over again. Nothing she said should have warranted such a reaction, but Alice had more pressing matters to focus on at the moment.

Hatter was just as gentle this time as he had been before and, oh, but the man was a fast learner. The knowledge he'd gleaned from her body the first time around was put to devilishly good use and before she knew it, Alice was crying his name as her spine arched heedless of her protesting ribs; she was feeling no pain.

Afterward, he cuddled her close and kissed her forehead and the sweat-dampened hair sticking to her skin. The girl could feel his heart pounding, almost in time with her own, and wished there was a Tea for this, so she could drown herself in it. Though she wanted to drift and enjoy the sensation for as long as possible, his quiet, tuneless humming lulled her unfairly into sleep.

"Alice?" A soft whisper slowly brought the girl awake. From the angle of the sun in the windows, she could tell it was later in the day. Feeling robbed, she opened her eyes, but once stormy blue met chocolate, that faded like dew in the morning. "Have a good kip?"

A soft, pleased groan slipped passed the little oyster's lips as she stretched languidly. "Yes. What time is it?"

Hatter shrugged. "Afternoon. I was thinking we should probably get you home before your mother sends the police after me."

It was true they had been gone a while. When she winced sitting up, he slipped a hand behind her back and helped. "She likes you."

An amused chortle. "That's because she doesn't know what I spent the last few hours doing to her daughter."

"Are you sure about that?" The girl grinned, which made him cringe and shake his head.

"Ugh, no, Alice. Don't talk about your mum like that," he pleaded in a horrified tone. "Besides, if she knows, she's definitely going to tell your father and then I'm in trouble."

"You're scared of my dad?"

"Before I left, he told me that if I didn't treat you properly, he was going to replace my head with a cookie jar," the former Tea Shop owner insisted. Alice blinked in confusion.

"What does that even mean?"

"I dunno, but I don't want to find out, either."

Chuckling, she ran a hand down his still bare chest. "You don't need to worry. Everything you did, you most definitely did properly."

"I'd like to think so." He grinned lecherously. "You're as bad as me, I think. No wonder you let me go first down that ladder."

Alice snapped her fingers. "Darn, you saw right through me."

"Speaking of doing things properly, I thought we should get cleaned up a bit before I take you home. I was about to get in the shower."

"And you just had to let me know before?" One dark brown lifted.

"I thought you might like to join me." His words were inviting, but his expression was sympathetic. "I know how difficult those hard to reach places can be with sore ribs."

Her eyes rolled at that statement. After all, that was what a bath brush was for. But she didn't say so. "You are just too thoughtful, Mr. Templeton."

"Generosity is who I am."

For the amount of time the two spent in the shower, very little cleaning was done, and it was with pruney fingers and soupy limbs the slightly damp couple made their way back down to the street. Thankfully, Carol did not comment on the wet hair her daughter and her beau where sporting, but she did invite him to stay for dinner. So, for the second time in a week, Alice had somehow brought a man home to meet her mother.

Carol was full of questions for the young Mr. David Templeton, which Hatter fielded beautifully. To Alice it was like a game, trying to figure out how much of what he said was stretched truth and how much was outright lies. His job was particularly amusing - a sales representative of an English company that specializes in designer teas.

"And how long will you be staying in New York?" Her mother asked the question Alice most wanted to know, but had not had the guts to bring up herself. Hatter - or, was it David now? - glanced at her before answering.

"Seven weeks at least," he said. "Beyond that, I don't know yet."

"I suppose we'll just have to enjoy you while you're here, then," Carol responded pleasantly. Alice still had yet to work out why her mother seemed so keen on Hatter. Not that she was complaining, but it was odd, to say the least.

It was a perfectly pleasant meal and ended much the way her dinner with Jack had, with Carol insisting they leave the dishes and heading off to bed. Once her mother was out of earshot, the girl turned to her lover.

"Seven weeks?"

Hatter nodded. "The Glass can be set to different times, but the machinery to control it only exists on our side. If you go to the past on this side, you have to wait until Wonderland catches up. Otherwise there would be two of you."

"Which would be a bad thing." Obviously. Though, really, two Hatters in the world didn't seem so bad to Alice.

"Do you remember Drs. Dee and Dum?"

"How could I forget?" She replied distastefully.

"That's what happens when you play around with the Looking Glass."Alice held up a hand. "Wait. Those two are really the same person?"

The man nodded. "He was originally named Tweedle Dumpty."

"What, like Humpty Dumpty?"

"Humpty was his… their… the father. He was killed in an accident and Tweedle tried to find a way to control the time aspect of the Glass, so he could change the past."

"So that's what all that machinery is attached to the Looking Glass?" Hatter nodded. "Was it his father's death that made him insane?"

"Nope. He cracked the code and then he cracked. Apparently, when there are two of you in the same time, it pulls at your mind. All kinds of things go wonky. Their brainwaves interrupt and echo each others. They tried sending him forward again, but he stepped through the Glass and stepped right back out of it, worse than before."

"Why worse?"

"No one knows for sure but Tweedle." Hatter shrugged. "Most people think it's because they got the math wrong and he ran into himself again, or that Dum changed his mind and never went through. Either way, there are laws about time traveling through the Glass. So until Wonderland catches up, you're stuck with me."

"And after that?" The words were out before she realized it and the panicky feeling in her chest must have shone out through her eyes, because he took her hand and gave it a gently reassuring squeeze.

"I'm not in any hurry to get back," he insisted lightly. "I think I'll see how the other side lives for a bit."

Something in the way he said "for a bit" resonated in her mind. A bit could be a very long time, if you looked at it the right way. She smiled.

"I can help with that. The Oyster experience."

"I was hoping you would."

"Maybe we can start with some ice cream," Alice suggested, as it was too late for pizza. Hatter's brows went up towards his hair (once again monstrously well behaved for her mother's benefit) and he leaned in, to hiss.

"I thought you already did that?" The girl's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Ice cream is a dessert," she told him.

"Oh! _Ice cream_," Hatter repeated back to her, with a clear pause between the words. "I thought you said, 'I scream'."

Alice shook her head, covering her face with her palm. "What am I going to do with you?"

"What would you do without me?" he countered impudently. Be miserable, she didn't say. Instead, she went to tell her mother they were going for ice cream and grabbed the beautiful plum coat Hatter had given her. He smiled brightly when he saw her with the garment, taking it to help the girl put it on without tweaking her ribs.

"I've always thought this coat looked smashing on you."

"I've always liked it, myself," she agreed, earning herself a soft kiss. She buttoned the coat as her date opened the front door with an exaggerated gentlemanly bow.

"Where you all excited when it came?" Hatter asked her with a teasing smile.

"I was." There was no way she was going to tell him she cried like a baby and went and sat in a dirty warehouse, staring at a brick wall. Her mother had been worried enough, she didn't need… Alice paused and looked back at the closed apartment door, then at the coat, then at the man beside her.

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking back at the door himself. "Forget something?"

The girl smiled widely and shook her head, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. "I think I just figured out why my mother likes you so much."

He looked affronted. "You mean, it's not my charming nature?"

"She thinks you left me just before I started dating Jack. And she never liked my relationship with him."

"No?" he intoned, looking far too pleased by that fact. She didn't begrudge him the bit of smugness, though. He had been right that she and Jack were so wrong.

"Then I told her I broke up with him because he just wasn't the guy for me."

"Entirely true." She rolled her eyes over his self satisfied grin.

"And then I got your package and… kind of… got emotional." His grin softened to something more genuine, but she went on before he could wheedle the whole truth out of her. "I told her it was an unexpected gift from a friend. Which is when I got sick on cream cake."

"Still not my fault," he insisted in a gentle tease.

"And then today, you show up and we put on quite a display, if you'll recall."

"Many times," was his cheeky reply as he hit the button for the elevator.

"So, I think my mom thinks you're the reason I rushed into a relationship with Jack. That I was trying to get over you."

Hatter snorted derisively. "As if you could get over me with one little prince."

The wisest course seemed to be ignoring his well deserved, if slightly out of control sense of arrogance. "And it was pretty romantic flying all the way back here from England and showing up on my doorstep with a flower to try and win me over."

"I'm a romantic kind of guy." The bell announced the elevator had arrived and as the doors slid open, he chuckled and shook his head. "I'm not, really. I just didn't know what else to do. I was coming over and saw a flower cart down the block and remembered you like carnations."

"Trust me." Not romantic? Who did he think he was kidding? Even without the coat and the traveling between worlds to be with her, the night in the kingdom surrounded by chiorflies would have qualified Hatter as the most romantic man she had ever met. And the fact that he did it completely oblivious to that fact made him even more special.

"That's a pretty smile," the man commented, his words dipped in curiosity. "Is it for me?"

"As a matter of fact, it is." Something warm and wonderful had curled up in her chest, something she wasn't ready to share with him. But she would, Alice knew, soon enough.


End file.
